From the Swan to the Sparrow
by Ph0enixS0ng
Summary: After Elizabeth tells Will her dark secret, he calls off the wedding and ventures off to find the Black Pearl - to find Jack. But what if there is more to Elizabeth's secret than the blacksmith is aware of? Jack/Will slash
1. Chapter I

**Title: **_From the Swan to the Sparrow_

**Author:** _Phoenix Song_

**Disclaimer:** Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney Productions

**Summary:** After Elizabeth tells Will her dark secret, he calls off the wedding and ventures off to find the Black Pearl - to find Jack. But what if there is more to Elizabeth's secret than the blacksmith is aware of? Jack/Will slash

**Author's Note: **Takes place after "The Curse of the Black Pearl" . . . er . . . before "Dead Man's Chest". I originally wrote this before the second and third movies came out and recently came across it again, so I decided to edit the existing chapters and finish it :) Thanks to everyone who reads and/or reviews!

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**Chapter 1**

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_"We have to distrust each other. It is our only defense against betrayal." ~ Tennessee Williams_

##

He did not love her . . . Not anymore . . .

At least, that is what Will Turner kept telling himself. It made the pain in his heart seem less real.

Elizabeth Swann . . . Even her name burned his ears. He could scarcely remember the time when it had sounded almost musical to hear, when he was in love, when _they _were in love, when thoughts of her comforted him during those dark, lonely nights in the blacksmith shop. During those times, memories of their childhood together would swim before his vision. They consoled him, helping him to forget his troubles with his drunken master.

But that is all they were now - _memories._ They were no longer his reality. They would no longer bring him comfort.

The blacksmith buried his head in his hands, willing the tears away. Why had she done this to him? Why had she betrayed him so?

'You told me that you loved me. Oh, _why _did you stop loving me?' Will exclaimed in grief, raising his tear-filled eyes to look up at the evening sky. He was sitting on a dock in the harbour, a place he used to frequent with the supposed love of his life. But now . . .

The man once again dropped his gaze.

'You took everything from me, Elizabeth,' he whispered, inwardly cursing her. 'My heart, my pride . . . everything that mattered! What do I have left to call my own?'

The waves swished softly in the wind, as if in reply to his question.

Will glanced out at the sea, vaguely noticing a large, dark shape in the distance - a ship. From where he sat, the sails looked almost black, but he knew that was impossible. He knew of only one ship that had black sails - the Black Pearl, the last pirate ship to sail the seven seas . . .

'Jack . . .' he breathed, rubbing his eyes in disbelief.

His spirits fell when the glare from the lighthouse shone upon the faraway ship. The sails were only illuminated for a moment, but it was impossible for him to miss their dazzling white hue. Although greatly disappointed, a flicker of hope had ignited within him. He knew what he had to do.

'There is only one thing left that you can never take away from me, Elizabeth - my heritage . . . my future.' With that said, he leapt to his feet and hastened home which he fervently hoped was empty of his faithless wife.

He had some packing to do.

##

Elizabeth's tears had finally subsided; she delicately dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes with one of the silk handkerchiefs her father had given her. How many hours had passed since Will ran off? Eight hours? Ten? She had lost track of the time while the sky slowly darkened from clear blue to inky black. She stared out the window at the moonless sky, wondering if Will was looking at the same stars she was looking at. . . It certainly did not feel that way.

'Milady? Are you all right?' a maid called, knocking softly upon her door.

'I told you to leave me be!' Elizabeth hissed angrily, pounding the window frame with her fists.

'Yes, Miss,' the woman said fearfully.

After a moment's hesitation, she heard the ruffling of the woman's skirts as she scurried away. Elizabeth sighed. She rarely snapped at the household staff, having known most of them since she was a small child. She would have to remember to apologize for her behaviour tomorrow.

She sighed again. Why did things have to turn out this way? She had expected Will to accept what happened, to at least give herthe chance to explain!

But no. He had run off, probably for good . . . and it was all Elizabeth's fault.

##

_They had been getting along reasonably well considering how stressed out they were over their upcoming wedding, excitedly discussing locations and guests and other details. They wanted a small wedding, only inviting family and close friends to share their moment of love._

_But her father wished for otherwise. The governor, true to his form, wanted the best for his only child. He scoffed at their apparently old-fashioned ideas and opted for the grandest of ceremonies. _

_'After all,' he reasoned with a kind smile, 'this is the wedding of the governor's only daughter.'_

_In the end, the two lovebirds complied with his wishes and started to expand their preparations on a larger scale. In the end, what did it really matter? They just wanted to say the vows that would officially bind them together for the years to come, to be named man and wife as they already felt in their hearts. In the end, everyone would get what they want - they would be happily wed and her father would have had his elaborate wedding._

_While the two men continued to exchange ideas, Elizabeth began to feel a strange queasiness in the pit of her stomach. Not being able to think of any logical reason that could have brought it on, she calmly ignored it. It soon became apparent, however, that she would not be able to disguise her state any longer. Using the hasty excuse to powder her nose, she ran to the nearest restroom and emptied her stomach into it._

_Although this had been occurring for the past week or so already, she still found the smell overwhelming. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Elizabeth flushed the contents away and made her way to the mirror to assess the damage. _

_She certainly looked a sight! Her hair was mussed and her natural rosy hue was completely gone, replaced with a sickly, pallid complexion. She turned on the faucet and cupped some water in her hands, trying to wash away any evidence of what had occurred._

_"Blush, I need blush," she thought, turning the faucet off and hurriedly drying her face with a towel. She tugged at the corner of the mirror to reveal the hidden cupboard behind it. Then she extracted a small jar of rouge and carefully applied some of the powder to her cheeks. When she was finished, she returned the container to its place in the cupboard and surveyed herself in the mirror. "Much better."_

_'Elizabeth?' a deep voice inquired from behind the closed door. 'Are you all right?'_

_'Yes, Will,' she replied; she tucked stray strands of hair behind her ears, attempting to look more presentable and lady-like._

_'Are you sure?'_

_Elizabeth smiled in spite of herself. He always worried about her too much . . . but he was probably right to worry this time._

_'Yes . . . Did you leave Father alone just to check on me?'_

_'Not exactly . . . He left a few minutes after you did to attend to some state business, but he said he'll be returning shortly.'_

_'I see.' A moment later, Elizabeth stepped out of the restroom to face her future husband._

_'Are you sure you're okay?'_

_'Yes,' she replied, exasperated now. _

_Will smiled softly. _

_'I love you,' he said, reaching up to gently stroke her cheek with his rough hands. His expression hardened when he noticed the streak of pink staining his fingers._

_Elizabeth determinedly avoided his gaze._

_'Why are you wearing blush?' he asked, frowning. 'You never wear blush.'_

_'I . . . thought it was time for a change,' she replied with forced brightness._

_'Elizabeth,' he said, giving her a stern look._

_'I have been feeling . . . ill lately,' she admitted._

_'Ill? Do you need to see a physician?'_

_'No . . .'_

_'Was it something you ate? Perhaps I should speak with your kitchen staff.' _

_'No.'_

_'Has someone hurt you?' Will's brows were furrowed with anxiety. _

_'No,' she said again, more insistently this time. 'Will, I . . .' Tears blurred her vision and she hastily blinked them away._

_'Elizabeth?' Will drew her into his strong arms and rubbed her back to comfort her. 'You know you can tell me anything, right?'_

_'Can I?'_

_'Of course.'_

_'Not this,' Elizabeth responded, not realizing she had spoken her thoughts aloud._

_He held her out at arm's length to look at her, but she continued to avert her eyes._

_'Why not?'_

_'Because . . . I don't want you to think any less of me,' she whispered brokenly._

_'I would never do that!' he exclaimed, shaking her shoulders slightly. 'I love you, Elizabeth. I would never think any less of you, despite anything that has happened.'_

_'I . . . I . . .' Elizabeth stuttered._

_'Yes?'_

_She bit her lip and finally forced herself to look Will in the eye. It was the least she could do when bearing such terrible news._

_'I . . . I think I'm pregnant.'_

_The silence that followed was deafening. _

_Will abruptly released his hold on his future wife and turned towards the wall. His head was lowered, his long, dark hair shielding his expression from Elizabeth's gaze. _

_She did not know what type of reaction she could have expected from him, but this . . . this was too much._

_'Will? Will! Say something!' she exclaimed, her fists clenching with agitation._

_The blacksmith spun on his heel to confront her, anger flashing across his handsome features. More prominently displayed, however, was the pain in his dark, brooding eyes. Without saying a word, Will took long strides towards the front door. His destination was uncertain, but there was one thing that Elizabeth knew for sure about her childhood sweetheart - he was not coming back._

_'Will!' she cried out, struggling to keep up with him as she was still weak from her earlier bout of sickness. _

_'How could you do this to me?' he asked coldly, increasing his pace. 'How could you betray me like this?'_

_'Let me explain!'_

_'There's nothing _to _explain!'_

_'Please!'_

_'Just . . . just leave me alone, Elizabeth,' he said, waving her off with his hand._

_'Please, Will! You have to let me explain!' She grabbed his sleeve, but Will violently shook off her hold. He did, however, stop walking to turn around and glare at her._

_'Why do I have to "__let" __you do anything?' he yelled, drawing stares from the nearby servants. 'You've already made it quite clear I don't matter to you!'_

_'But there's more to this than you know!' Elizabeth pleaded. _

_'I know what I need to know - and I will never marry such a whore.'_

_'Please, Will.'_

_'No. Just leave me alone,' Will said again, continuing on his way._

_Elizabeth fell to her knees, tears flowing freely from her eyes. She noticed Will slow his pace, as if about to ask if she was all right, but he seemed to think better of it and did not even bother to glance back._

_'Will . . . There's something you have to understand . . .' she whispered brokenly._

_But he was already gone._

##

She told him that very morning - and their dreams of being wed and having a family had ended not a moment after that. It was amazing how much difference a few minutes could make to someone's life.

Things may have turned out differently if Elizabeth told him about her predicament _after _the wedding had taken place. Who knows? Perhaps he would have believed the baby was his_, _but Elizabeth was not sure if she had it in her to live out such an important lie for the rest of her life. Or maybe he would have fallen in love with the idea of caring for a child with her - if it was his or otherwise - and raised the baby as his own. However, there was still a chance he would eventually discover the truth and abandon her. Or it was possible that he would have grown to love the child so much that he would never abandon it, despite its origins.

But those were just dreams now, for any hope she had of sharing a life, even part of a life, together with her best friend was gone.

Will was gone.

She had told him too soon - it was impossible for the baby to be his. They had never interacted in such a way that a baby could be conceived. There had been much kissing and embracing, yes, but not enough to conceive a new life.

Will, being the honourable man he was, wanted to follow tradition and wait until their wedding night. In the meantime, he lived by himself in the old apartment above the blacksmith shop.

Yes, blacksmith. She, the governor's only daughter, had fallen in love with a poor blacksmith. She had not minded, of course, although it was clear at times that he did.

Will had rather old-fashioned ideas about marriage - that the husband should be the one supporting the family while the wife did whatever wives do. He had not expected to marry a rich woman and gain the option of living off her inheritance, so he did not let those facts interfere with his plans. He intended to open up his own blacksmith shop one day or perhaps buy the old one from Mr. Brown since it was clear that he was too much of a drunk to maintain it on his own.

Whatever he decided in his life, however, Elizabeth was no longer a part of it.

She sighed sadly.

If only he allowed her to tell him the whole truth. If only he'd given her the chance to explain herself. If only he would at least _try_ to understand.

If only he knew she was raped.

##


	2. Chapter II

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**Chapter 2**

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_"The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, nor the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it's the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when he discovers that someone else believes in him and is willing to trust him with his friend." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson_

##

'Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me,' Jack Sparrow, captain of the mighty Black Pearl, sang under his breath as he surveyed the vast area of water before him. The sea was beautiful - the mistress of many secrets, an endless channel of true beauty . . .

Almost endless, anyway.

'Land ho!' Anamaria's voice carried from above, where she was standing watch in the crow's nest.

Jack smiled that mysterious smile of his, as if he knew something that no one else did.

'Good,' the captain murmured. 'I think it's about time I paid me dear friends a visit.' While they were still perched a fair distance away, he gave the orders for the sails to be tied and the anchor to be dropped. Although they were probably still too far out to see/sea (**Author's Note:** Excuse the pun), he had no desire to risk being seen by any unsuspecting people. The black sails were sure to cause panic, thus alerting the city officials of his visit. That was the last thing he needed - another assault and possible death sentence on his ship and the crew.

'Are ye sure it be wise to make port here, Cap'n? Port Royal?' Gibbs asked seriously, casually leaning against the side rail.

'Are ye questioning me judgment, Mr. Gibbs?' Jack asked in return; one of his eyebrows disappeared into his dreadlocks, as if daring Gibbs to say yes.

'No, no, nothing like that,' Gibbs said, waving his hands in front of him in defense. He nervously cleared his throat, 'So will ye just be getting the usual supplies then?' he asked, changing the subject.

'Aye,' Jack replied. 'Rum, food, rum, clothes, rum . . . Unless there's anything else ye'd be needing.'

Gibbs scratched the fuzz on his chin, as if contemplating the matter.

'A bath perhaps, but ye can't exactly bring me back one of those now, can ye?' the pirate said, guffawing heartily at his own joke.

Jack smiled in response, his golden teeth gleaming in the sunlight. Aye, his friend truly did need a bath. (If truth be told, most of the crew did!) However, he highly doubted that a bath alone would be enough to disguise the terrible stench that his second-in-command emitted

'And the rest of the crew?' he inquired. 'Will they be needing anything?'

'Nothing more than the usual,' Gibbs responded with a shrug. 'Will ye be doing it the usual way then, Cap'n?'

Jack rolled his eyes.

It was always the "usual" for them now. The life of a pirate gave them freedom, true, but after a while, even pillaging and plundering seemed routine and almost boring. He needed something to change the monotony of things . . . which is precisely why he had decided upon this particular destination in the first place. However, there were a few obvious drawbacks.

'No,' he said, his moustache twitching slightly. 'Don't want to be causing too much trouble hereabouts.'

'Yer not scared now, are ye, Jack?'

'No. There are just too many rabbits around.'

'Rabbits, Cap'n?'

'And sea turtles,' Jack added, as if what he was saying was perfectly normal. 'I don't want their homes to be blasted with cannon fire. They saved me life after all.' He paused for a moment. 'I'll just pick up what we need and we'll be off - no dilly dallying.'

'Aye . . . but are ye sure that ye should be the one going, Jack?' Concern laced his friend's tone. 'Perhaps we should send Anamaria or some other . . . lesser-known pirate.'

'I'll be fine,' Jack insisted. 'They won't notice me if I'm alone.'

'Alone?'

'Aye, all by me onesies. Why?'

'Just anxious is all.'

'Don't be. It'll just be a quickie - in and out. And . . . I think I'll visit with a certain Mr. Turner while I'm there . . . See how he's doing and all.'

'Bootstraps' son?'

'The one and only . . . I think.'

'Okay, Jack. Just don't get caught.'

'Mr. Gibbs, you forget . . . I'm Captain Jack Sparrow! Savvy?'

'Aye.'

The captain sighed.

'If it'll make ye feel better, Mr. Gibbs, I'll leave this eve. It'll be too dark to see anything by then.'

'Aye, that would suit me just fine, Cap'n.'

##

A few hours later, Jack ever so stealthily paddled one of the row boats into the harbour. His rugged features were masked in the shadows, but he nevertheless adopted a wary countenance. He keenly assessed his surroundings, pulling his black cloak closer around him to further conceal his identity. It was quite a chilly night, so he was easily able to obscure his face using the pretense of getting warm. He allowed the boat to steer itself on the soft currents of the sea. Not a moment later, it swayed before one of the docks. He stepped out of the boat and hastily tied it to one of the wooden posts.

'Welcome to Port Royal,' a man greeted him warmly. He held a clipboard in one hand and a quill in the other. A child stood patiently by his side, holding a lamp for his master.

Jack was relieved that it was dark; otherwise, the harbormaster may have recognized him. The pirate surely recognized _him_. It was none other than the same bloke who had greeted him during his first "escapade"to Port Royal. He did not appear to have changed much. Same dull white hair, same bland expression, same monotonous tone . . . No, he had not changed at all.

The changes in the boy, however, were much more apparent to the pirate. He was older now, of course, and more toned than he had been back then, his baby fat hardening into slim muscles from all the hard work he did for his master. He stared at Jack, recognition shining in his large, black eyes.

'That'll be one shilling for securing your boat in the harbor,' the harbormaster said, 'and I'll be needing your name as well.'

The captain vaguely wondered if the same trick would work this time as it did the last time . . . Yes, most likely. After all, businessmen were always greedy for more money.

'Smith,' he said simply, tossing a few shillings onto the clipboard. He even surreptitiously slipped a coin to the boy, buying his silence, before obscuring his hand once more.

'"Smith" it is then,' the man replied with a slight bow. 'Thank you, sir.'

Jack grinned wickedly, his teeth shimmering slightly beneath the folds of his cloak.

'No, thank _you_, sir,' he replied, gallantly bowing before he made his unapparent escape. In his fist, he held the day's inventory which the other man had very unwisely left in his pocket. Honestly, if he was going to carry that much money on his person, he should at least have put it in a place that was _not _so obvious to potential thieves!

Jack made his way along the winding streets, trying to keep the moon in plain view at all times. It was an old trick, one that moths used instinctively. If he kept the moon on one side of him, then he would be able to stay in a straight line. Unfortunately, however, doing so was much more difficult than he had anticipated.

'Who designed these streets?' he muttered bitterly to himself, finding himself at yet another dead end. 'Whatever happened to simple parallelism?' He irritably looked up at the buildings towering above him, as if accusing them for his misdirection.

"Ah, this is more like it," he thought triumphantly, seeing the familiar blacksmith's sign.

'If I know Will, he's ravaging his beautiful new wife at their lovely home,' Jack murmured, making his way to the door. 'Perhaps that drunken fellow can tell me how to get to the new Mr. Elizabeth Swann's residence . . . or is it Mrs. Turner . . .?' He shrugged it off and hesitantly opened the door. 'Hello?' he called. 'Anyone home?'

In reply, he heard a squeak of shock. A moment later, Elizabeth stepped around the corner to greet him, yet she was not the same Elizabeth he remembered. Her long, brown hair was in shambles and her dress was filthy. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that her eyes were red from recent tears.

'Elizabeth?'

'Jack!' she cried out in disbelief, running over to the pirate. She looked as if she were about to embrace him, but stopped herself at the last moment. 'What are you doing here?'

'I would ask the same of you, love,' Jack said humbly.

'I . . . I was looking for Will.'

'Aye. I gathered as much, Mrs. Turner.'

'Miss Swann,' the woman automatically corrected him.

Jack reeled. _Surely _he had heard wrong! Will loved Elizabeth with all his heart. He would not just leave her without an explanation! Then that must mean . . .

'Where is dear William?' he asked concernedly. 'He's not . . .' The pirate was unable to complete his sentence, uncertain if he wanted to know the answer to his unasked question.

'He's not dead,' Elizabeth responded brusquely. 'But . . . I may as well be.'

'What happened?'

'He left . . . a few days ago.'

Jack sat down next to the fireplace and coaxed her to sit down beside him; she did so reluctantly.

'Start from the beginning.'

'I'm pregnant.'

'Or ye can just jump right into it!' Jack exclaimed, jumping to his feet. 'Pregnant? Elizabeth, that's . . . that's . . . that's wonderful' He tried to ignore the pain he was feeling from hearing the . . . good news. Elizabeth was pregnant with Will's child. He had always known that it had been a strong possibility - after all, the two lovebirds were supposed to be getting married. Why, then, did it hurt so much to finally hear it aloud?

'Will left because of the baby,' Elizabeth said quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the ground.

'Was he not ready to be a father?' Although Jack knew that he (Jack) was certainly unfit to be anyone's father, he just as certainly knew that Will was too honourable to ever run away from such an important responsibility.

'He's . . .' She paused to inhale deeply. 'He's not the father.'

Jack was torn. He despaired with her for her current situation, but a part of him wanted to celebrate as well. Will was not the father! His William was still his . . .

'Tell me what happened.'

'Jack . . . Oh, Jack!' she exclaimed, taking refuge in his arms and burying her face in his chest. Not a moment later, however, she pulled her head back with an expression of revulsion on her face.

'What?' Jack asked, confused.

'My goodness! When was the last time you bathed?' She sounded much like her normal self for a moment there, despite the tears and the cracking voice.

The pirate grinned sheepishly.

'I'm not quite sure, lass. When was the last time I visited with ye?'

Elizabeth's nose wrinkled with disgust.

'That's disgusting, Jack!'

Jack merely grinned.

'It all comes from the same package, love,' he said with a wink. 'Now, tell me what happened.'

'I . . . I . . . I was _raped_!' she wept, breaking into hysterics again.

Now a cold, dark hatred filled the pirate.

'Who did it?' he demanded. 'WHO DID IT?' he repeated, more fiercely than before.

'I-I don't know!' she stuttered into his chest.

Jack tightened his grip around her. Who would do such a thing? Tarnish such an innocent creature? Wait a moment . . .

'Did Will leave when he found out ye were raped?'

'He didn't know,' she sobbed.

'What do ye mean, "He didn't know"?'

'He stormed out of the house before I had the chance to tell him,' she said, sniffling. 'I didn't follow him at first, knowing that he wanted - _needed_ - some time alone to sort things out. But I couldn't wait any longer, so I went out to look for him.'

'That's when he left?'

Elizabeth nodded.

'I checked his apartment first - all his clothes were gone. So I decided to come here, just in case, but he wasn't here either. I've been coming here every day since he left, hoping he'd return, but he never has! Jack, where could he be?'

'I don't know, Elizabeth,' Jack replied honestly. 'I just don't know.' He encouraged her to sit down once more, lest she collapsed. 'Come now, tell me everything.'

'It all started when-'

##

Elizabeth anxiously waited for Will at the outskirts of the Port Royal, alongside the main road into town. He had travelled to a nearby city for a few days in order to restock his supplies at the blacksmith shop. He was scheduled to return home today and Elizabeth had wanted to surprise him by meeting him here. She had been waiting for him for less than an hour, but her excitement was getting the better of her and her patience was starting to wear thin.

_'Where could he be?' she muttered, flicking invisible specks of dust off her knee._

_She was wearing a new outfit that he father had bought her from France - a cream-hued dress with a full skirt and a bodice trimmed with subtle white lace. She had fallen in love with it the first moment she had laid her eyes upon it and she knew Will would, too._

_'As soon as he gets here,' she said to herself, rolling her eyes._

_The minutes ticked away and he still did not appear. Granted, he had not actually specified the __time_ _of his arrival, only the day. Elizabeth was starting to think that it was folly to have waited here for her fiancé for so long. After all, everyone knew the outskirts were a dangerous place to be after dark._

_"He couldn't have come home by sea - not for such a short distance," she thought, convinced she was waiting in the right spot. _

_After the sun had set upon the distant horizon, Elizabeth stood up from her seat on the bench, sighing disappointedly._

_'Oh well,' she murmured. 'I'll still see him later tonight, I suppose.' She lifted up her skirts and stared to walk home._

_'Excuse me, miss,' someone called from nearby. 'You dropped your purse.'_

_Elizabeth whirled around and was surprised to see the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen in her life. Will's eyes were beautiful as well, but they were brown and admittedly nowhere near as bright as this stranger's eyes._

_'Um . . ." She glanced down at the proffered bag in his hand. "Thank you, sir.' She took the bag and, after bowing courteously, turned around once more to continue on her way._

_'I couldn't help but notice that you were sitting there for an awfully long time,' the man said in a crisp American accent; he casually ran his hands through his dark hair. 'Were you waiting for someone?'_

_Knowing that it would be rude to leave now and, at the same time, seeing no harm in a bit of small talk, Elizabeth faced the stranger. 'Yes, I was. I was waiting for my fiancé.'_

_'Handsome bloke?'_

_'Definitely.'_

_'Good man?'_

_'The best.'_

_'I bet he is,' her companion replied offhandedly. 'I'm Damon, by the way,' he said with a slight bow._

_'Miss Swann,' she responded, curtseying in turn._

_'Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Swann,' he said with a tip of his hat. 'You wouldn't happen to be related to Governor Swann now, would you?' he asked, but it wasn't really a question._

_'I am,' she said, smiling. 'I'm his daughter.'_

_'Daughter, eh? I thought you looked familiar.' Damon scratched his chin thoughtfully. 'Well, this may seem a tad forward, you being the governor's daughter and all, but would you like to wait for your fiancé at my house?' Damon indicated one of the buildings nearby. 'If you'd like, you can wait upstairs. That way, you'll be able to look out the window and see when your beau is coming.'_

_'I don't know . . .' Elizabeth said hesitantly. _

_'Come on, miss. It's not safe for a pretty little gal like yourself to be wandering around alone this time of night.'_

_'No, thank you. I think I'll just go home.' She turned around once more, starting when she suddenly felt his strong hand on her arm._

_'And put all that waiting to waste? You know, I think he would be mighty happy to see you out here waiting for him, rather than having to wait to get all the way back to the governor's house before he sees you. Besides, I think your father might be worried if you're walking home by yourself after dark.'_

_'Well . . . I _did _want to surprise Will,' she said, finally caving in. 'I suppose I could stay for a bit.'_

_'Excellent,' he said with a gleaming smile. 'Follow me.'_

##

'Ah, lass, did ye not know better than to believe the talk of a stranger, let alone enter one's house?' Jack asked, interrupting her tale. 'Has yer father not told ye about the dangers of such actions?'

'I'm not a child anymore, Jack. Besides, I . . . I was not in the right state of mind,' she defended herself.

'Perhaps, but ye _have _to be in the right state of mind when faced with a situation like that! And here I was thinking that ye'd be a good pirate. Heh!'

Elizabeth curtly straightened her skirts.

'I'm well past that stage in my life.'

'Stage?'

'Feeling as if I have to go gallivanting off on a pirate ship, searching for buried treasure on some mysterious island,' she explained with a scoff.

'But that isn't all we do, darling,' Jack said with a raised brow.

She sniffed, giving reign to her aristocratic upbringing.

'No,' she agreed, 'but I don't fancy bathing in the blood of dead soldiers either.'

Jack merely smiled, allowing his golden teeth to gleam in the faint lamplight.

'We've gone a bit off topic, eh? What say we return to yer story . . .'

Elizabeth glared at him for a moment before continuing on.

##

_Damon led the way into his house, gallantly offering to take her coat and hat from her._

_'No, thank you,' Elizabeth murmured, growing hesitant once more._

_'Suit yourself, Miss Swann, although I do believe you'll be much more comfortable without them . . . amongst other things.'_

_Elizabeth blanched noticeably._

_'I beg your pardon, sir?' _

_'Just a simple jest, my lady,' he replied, bowing apologetically. 'You must forgive the crude humour of a poor and homely man.'_

_She smiled._

_'You are hardly "homely", sir.'_

_He beamed._

_'Well, you have a very . . . interesting place here,' she stated. She slowly took in the modest surroundings, noting with displeasure the mould and grime that accumulated on the furniture over the years._

_Her reaction must have reflected upon her face, for Damon said, 'Aye, I know it's none too clean. I've only been living in Port Royal for a short while now, but I have no one to care for the place since I have no wife to speak of.'_

_'And yourself? Why can you not do it?' _

_'I spend so much time at the docks - a man has got to make a living, after all - that I simply have no time left to worry about such petty matters.'_

_'Petty? I would hardly call hygiene "petty".' Elizabeth suddenly clasped a hand over her mouth and flushed in embarrassment for being so rude to her host. 'I must apologize. I don't intend to act so discourteously.' She nervously fumbled with her purse. 'I have overstayed my welcome. I'm sorry, sir.' She made a move towards the door, but Damon stepped firmly in her way._

'Please, do not leave on account of such a silly argument, my lady,' he said kindly. 'I would loathe losing such fine company based solely on the state of my home. Please, if you follow me, I can take you upstairs so you may be able to see when your husband-to-be is arriving. I, myself, would like to see what kind of a man was able to lay claim to such a beauty,' he added, winking.

_If possible, Elizabeth's blush grew deeper._

_'Er . . . Thank you,' she said modestly. 'Yes. Let's go.'_

_'By the way, I don't believe you've told me his name.'_

_'It's Will. William Turner, actually.'_

_'William? He must be a strong lad to have such a strong name. Is he good to you?' he asked, leading the way up the stairs._

_'Yes. He has been nothing short of wonderful.' Elizabeth felt tempted to tell Damon that Will had even risked his life to save her from pirates, but she did not know how he would react to such information - he may accuse her of lawlessness, after all - so she remained silent._

_'And you love him?'_

_'That is a rather personal question, sir . . . but yes, I do, with all my heart.'_

_'And he loves you, too.'_

_This time it was a statement, not a question._

_'Yes.'_

_'Good.'_

_'Sir?'_

_Damon sighed and paused for a moment to glance out one of the windows that lined the stairs. _

_'I must clarify myself, it seems.'_

_'I apologize.'_

_'There's no need to,' he immediately reassured her. 'My lady, what I meant is that it's good to marry someone for power, for fame, for fortune . . . but it's better still to marry someone for love.' He sighed again, hanging his head; his hair fells forwards, obscuring his features. 'I hope that such a love will enter my life someday - I cannot help but hope.'_

_Elizabeth placed a comforting hand on his arm._

_'I am sure that it will . . . someday. A woman would be hard-pressed to refuse such a kind man as yourself.'_

_When Damon finally raised his head, Elizabeth noticed that the warm blue hue of his eyes had suddenly turned ice cold . . . She knew that look, that heartless, dangerous look . . ._

_'NO!'_

##

Knock knock.

_Commodore Norrington stirred slightly and irritably rolled over in his bed._

Knock knock.

_'Leave me be,' he grumbled, pulling his lavish sheets over his head to drown out the sound._

KNOCK KNOCK!

_This time, the knocking was more urgent and the fatigued man had no choice but to reply with a proper response._

'What is it?' he demanded.

'Commodore? Sir, may I have a word?'

'No, Gilette, you may not,' he replied coldly. 'I'm resting! Come back in the morning!'

'Sir! Please!'

'No!' he said again. 'Besides, I'm . . . indecent.'

That was a lie, of course; he simply did not wish to entertain any visitors. Norrington was a man of high stature. He could not afford himself the luxury of sleeping in anything less formal than the finest silks money could buy.

'Commodore-'

'You are dismissed tonight, Gilette!' Norrington practically screamed. 'It's late! Come back in the morning!'

'Sir, he has returned!' Gilette finally said.

The Commodore paused for a moment.

'Who? Who has returned?' Norrington was already out of bed and reaching for his coat when Gilette responded.

'Captain Jack Sparrow.'

_##_


	3. Chapter III

_##_

**Chapter 3**

##

_"From such a gentle thing, from such a fountain of all delight, my every pain is born." ~ Michelangelo_

##

'And you even _touched_ him!' Jack exclaimed with infuriated disbelief. His anger disappeared shortly afterwards, however, when he saw the look upon Elizabeth's face - pure fear. 'Elizabeth?'

She did not respond, except to cradle her knees against her chest.

'Elizabeth?' Jack inquired once more. 'Are you all right?'

What Jack did not realize was that an overwhelming collection of memories was speeding through Elizabeth's head, forcing her to relive each dreadful scene in her mind's eye.

##

_The rough hands of the fisherman grabbed her wrists and forcefully pulled her up the remaining stairs._

_Elizabeth screamed and desperately tried to pry his callused hands from her delicate wrists, all the while digging her heels into the floor . . . but all of her attempts were in vain._

_Damon shoved her into his bedroom and slammed the door shut behind them. A moment later, the unmistakable click of the lock was heard._

_Elizabeth instinctively tried to back away, but the man's grip was relentless._

_'I demand that you release me at once, sir!' she commanded with a quivering voice. 'I am a lady, the daughter of Port Royal's esteemed governor. And you, sir, have overstepped your rights! So what is it to be? My release or your imprisonment? Neither decision will save you from a well-deserved lashing, I may add.'_

_The man stared at her with a mild look of amusement in his eyes._

_'I don't believe, my lady,' he added sardonically, 'that you are in the right position to make such demands, nor any, for that matter.' His horrible smile widened as he transferred her wrists to one hand. 'And given the options . . . Well, I may as well get my trouble's worth then, eh?' he said, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand._

_Elizabeth spat in his face._

_'You'll be sorry.'_

##

"Raped!" Jack thought, watching his companion anxiously. "I cannot believe that dear, sweet Elizabeth was _raped_! OF ALL THE SLEAZY, BLOODY, SON OF A BITCHY-" He ceased his trail of reflection and took a deep breath in an attempt to cool his anger. "And Will . . . He doesn't know . . . He left her . . . He _abandoned _her . . . He never knew that she was raped . . . _Raped_! How could any man do such a thing to a lady?"

The pirate agitatedly stood up and paced the length of the room, taking care to keep a close watch on Elizabeth's facial expression.

'Well, I don't blame ye, lass, for being like this,' he muttered quietly. 'Who could think rationally after such a SLIMY, DISGUSTING-'

But Elizabeth could hardly maintain a grasp of her surroundings, let alone notice the angry, extensive string of curses that were flying out of her companion's mouth.

##

_Damon hastily retrieved a fraying length of rope from underneath his bed._

_Elizabeth's eyes widened, knowing the dark intentions that were embedded in his mind._

_'Please, don't do this,' she begged. 'What do you want? Better work? Money? My father will give you anything!'_

_The man laughed cruelly._

_'No, my lady, but thank you for the offer. At the moment, I crave nothing more than the taste of your pale, beautiful flesh.' As if to emphasize his words, he licked his smooth, flawless lips._

_'Please . . .'_

_'Now, now, it would be best if you saved your begging for later . . . amongst other things. There are many uses in my mind for that aggressive tongue of yours, each one better than the last.' With that said, he dived for Elizabeth, causing her to fall backwards onto the bed. Unfortunately, this only made his task of securing her wrists to the bedpost that much easier._

_'NO!' she shrieked, trying to pull free from her bonds. 'LET ME GO!' Instinctively, her body arched against the bed in an attempt to liberate herself, yet it was to no avail . . . except to perhaps arouse Damon's senses further._

_'Now, now,' he said again, firmly placing his hands on her hips to cease her struggles. 'You will need to save your energy for later, my lady. Who knows?' he asked, his eyes darkening with desire. 'You may even _like _it.' _

##

'This was not exactly the type of reunion I had in mind,' Jack murmured to himself. 'Damn that blacksmith to hell and back! He just _had_ to leave her before he discovered the entire story.' He glanced at Elizabeth, whose features were still in a state of shock.

"Dim-witted woman - she should know better than to enter some strange man's house!" he thought irritably. "And ye, ye stupid excuse of a Captain! Why could ye not arrive sooner?" His gaze shifted to the fire. He watched the flaming embers, marveling at how well they represented the burning sensation he was feeling within his very being; ire, slow to rise within the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow, but dangerous once it was burning strong.

"Idiot man," he thought darkly, fingering the rather grimy sword that was hanging from his waist. "Doesn't he know better than to meddle with a friend of a pirate?"

##

_Damon attempted to seat himself on the bed beside his victim, but the other viciously kicked at him with her stiletto-heeled boots._

_'Don't come near me, sir!' she commanded. 'I am a lady! Not some whore you found on the street!'_

_He pointedly ignored her, slowly and seductively allowing his gaze to travel the length of her body._

_'Ah, but I _did _find you on the street, miss,' he said. 'And, like you said, there's no way I can escape this state of affairs unpunished . . . And, like _I_ said, I may as well carry it through - _all_ the way through, if you catch my drift. What would be the point of pursuing my goals if I hesitate at the moment that counts?' Damon made another attempt to sit on the bed, yet it ended up being a simple recurrence of his former endeavor._

_'NO!'_

_'No?' he inquired. 'I can see that you are going to make this difficult. Indeed, you already are.'_

_'You have my pity,' she replied sarcastically._

_'Now, now, there will be none of that.' He reached out to stroke her hair with his large hand, but she turned her head towards it and attempted to bite him. 'Hmm . . . This places me a rather awkward position then, but I have always liked the feisty ones.'_

_'You've done this before!' she accused, scandalized._

_He nodded, reaching under his bed once more._

_'Don't tell me that . . .' Elizabeth's sentence trailed off when she saw another length of rope in his hands._

_'Okay, I'll not tell you anything,' he replied with a grin. 'But, you know, if you merely submit yourself to me, I would not have to go through all this trouble . . . and it probably won't hurt as much,' he added as an afterthought. 'All the other girls would have given in by now, especially with my good looks and all.'_

_Elizabeth rolled her eyes and sighed._

_'But I'm not like "other girls",' she retorted._

_'I know you aren't like the others - that's what makes you so appealing to me . . . So what do you have to say about the "good-looking" bit?'_

_'What would it matter?'_

_'Ah, so you _do_ think I am attractive.'_

_If possible, her body stiffened even more._

_'There's more to attraction than physical appeal,' she snapped. _

_He grinned._

_'Touché.' _

##

'I wonder what world she's in,' Jack said to himself, trying to comprehend the expression on his companion's face. 'But, so help me, I will kill the bastard who did this to her! How dare he harm one of me friends! Me! Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl, the last real pirate ship in the world!' He smiled darkly.

"I have always rather adored that title," he thought fondly.

Then he continued on with his monologue.

'Nobody messes around with one of mefriends and gets away with it.'

Jack absent-mindedly sat down on a nearby chair and rested his chin on his fisted hands.

'I'd definitely enjoy paying this "Damon" fellow a personal visit. I wonder if Elizabeth remembers him, but I think it would be an absolute marvel if the lass did not.' A distant look entered his eyes. 'Nobody ever forgets their worst memories.'

##

_Elizabeth glared at her newly-obtained foe. _

_Damon stared back at her, but his expression was much darker than hers due to the look of lust clouding his eyes. He vaguely admired his handiwork, his gaze shifting between her terrified face and the tight knots in the rope on her wrists and ankles, as if to ensure that they were still secure. He had been forced to wrestle strenuously with the woman's legs so they would remain still long enough for him to force them apart and tie them down. However, he knew that all this work would be well worth it in the end. Yes, it would definitely be worth it._

_Realizing that she had no options left (since she could hardly master him physically), Elizabeth screamed again. She screamed and screamed until her throat became painfully raw and she could scream no more._

_Damon merely watched her with his hands covering his ears, waiting for her cries to finally give way to hoarseness - then silence. He knew no one would pay her any heed. His neighbors were well used to loud noises coming his house as well as the other nearby houses, especially given that the young children - not to mention his former victims - whined noisily about everything and nothing all day long. The walls were thin and obscured little._

_'Have you quite finished?' he asked calmly when she paused to take a breath._

_'What do you want from me?' she demanded, her voice raspy due to her sore throat._

_'I believe we've already clarified that,' he said smoothly. 'I want you . . . all of you_ . . . _Every part of you will be mine_._'_

##

I want you . . . Not "I love you" or even "I like you" (not that it would have been true), just "I _want_ you".

Elizabeth remembered hearing those words from Damon that day. For some reason, it implied such a negative, somewhat barbaric, connotation when uttered by someone other than Will, for the latter had said exactly the same words to her many times over. Then again, Will was a good man who knew her as a person and loved her for it. When he said, "I want you" to Elizabeth, what he really meant was, "I love you". Damon, however, did not. All that this stranger knew was that she was just another pretty face on the street - she was nothing special to him.

The cruelty of reality struck her being and fresh tears formed in her eyes.

Another hoard of memories flooded her mind. One after the other, they added to her already pained heart . . .

##

_Darkness beyond twilight . . ._

_Cries of terror . . ._

_Deep, wicked laughter . . ._

##

Elizabeth rocked herself gently, her mind existing in a world apart from her body.

##

_'Have no fear, dear Elizabeth. I promise you that it won't hurt . . . much.'_

_Her clothes were ripped apart, exposing her shivering body to the pale moonlight filtering in through the windows._

_Damon looked down upon her shapely form and licked his lips with delight._

_'Perfect,' he muttered, desire alighting within his eyes._

_And then . . ._

##


	4. Chapter IV

##

**Chapter 4**

##

"_Darkness is only driven out with light, not more darkness." ~ Martin Luther King Jr._

##

'NO!' Elizabeth screamed, immediately attracting Jack's attention.

'Elizabeth?' he inquired. 'Elizabeth! Stop it! Stop thinking about it! It's over! It's done! The past has . . . passed!' The pirate seriously considered slapping some sense into the girl, but he did not believe she would appreciate such actions once she had regained her right state of mind. After all, she was a lady, the sole daughter of the governor. No. He would simply have to think of another way.

Just then, an idea entered his mind. Perhaps it was not a very good one considering the present circumstances, but it was an idea nonetheless. Besides, it was the only one he had!

##

_Harsh lips descended upon her own . . ._

_Blunt nails clawed at her hips . . ._

_A muscular arm crushed her body against that of her foe . . ._

_Legs roughly tangled together . . ._

_Teeth suddenly attacked her smooth neck . . ._

_A hand drifted its way to . . . _

_No!_

##

'Elizabeth! Remember Will! Remember Will!' Jack repeated over and over again. 'He loves ye, Elizabeth! The boy loves ye with all his heart! Just remember Will and the demons will abandon ye!'

##

_One finger . . ._

_Two fingers . . ._

_Three fingers . . ._

_Pain . . ._

_The fingers vanished to give way for something much longer . . . much larger . . ._

_PAIN!_

##

'Elizabeth! Will loves ye! He loves ye! He will find out the truth about what happened! He will come back to ye!'

##

_In . . ._

_Out . . ._

_In . . ._

_Out . . ._

_In . . ._

_Out . . ._

_Pain . . . Blood . . . Tears . . ._

_Laughter . . ._

##

Jack wrapped his tattooed arms around Elizabeth's trembling form and pulled her into his strong embrace.

'Don't do this, Elizabeth. It will be difficult to forget what happened, but don't let it haunt ye like this. Will loves ye with all his heart. Ye cannot hope for anything more than that . . . My heart knows that I do,' he added as a quiet afterthought. 'Elizabeth, come back.'

##

_Release . . ._

##

Suddenly, Elizabeth's mind gave way to a different type of memory - one that was not so painful, although it could hardly be called pleasurable either.

##

_Young Elizabeth and her dear childhood friend, Will Turner, walked side by side along the beach, taking in the last rays of the setting sun. The strong waves crashed onto the sandy shore, trailing cool water over their bare feet and lingering footprints. Each of them carried a pair of shoes in one hand, while the other hung lifeless at their sides; both yearned for the latter to be clasped together in a resemblance of intimacy, but neither dared to carry it through for fear of rejection._

_'It's so beautiful out here,' sixteen-year-old Elizabeth said. 'I wish I could come out here every night as you do, Will.'_

_'It's not as special as you may think it to be,' Will replied, bending down to pick up a flat rock. 'But it is tonight.' He tossed the stone carelessly into the water, where it disappeared amongst the dark waves._

_'Really? Why's that?'_

_'Because you're here with me.' He offered her a shy smile._

_Elizabeth smiled in return, blushing slightly from his response. She had always harbored feelings for her friend, but she never spoke of those feelings aloud. It may cause things to become awkward between them and ruin their friendship which was the last thing she wanted._

_'Elizabeth?'_

_'Yes?'_

_'We . . . we'll always be together, right?' he inquired timidly, looking down at his feet._

_'Yes . . .' she responded slowly, wondering what he was thinking._

_'No matter what?' he asked in a typical adolescent fashion._

_'Of course!'_

_'You promise?'_

_'Yes, I promise.'_

_'I promise, too.' Will finally found the courage to look her in the eye and asked, 'We'll never leave each other, right? We'll always be together?'_

_'Yes, we will always be friends.'_

_'Yes . . . friends . . .' he said, almost hesitantly._

_'_Best _friends!' she corrected herself, noticing his discomfort._

_The other teen turned away, firmly avoiding her gaze._

_'Will, is something wrong? Why are you asking me these questions?' she asked earnestly._

_'Well . . . I'm . . . not sure . . .' Will sighed, tightening his grip on the heavy boots in his hand. 'I suppose . . .'_

_'Yes?'_

_'I suppose that-'_

_'Miss Swann!' a sudden voice called out. 'Miss Swann!' it cried out again, more anxiously than before. 'Your father wants you to return home immediately for the evening meal! Miss Elizabeth Swann! Where are you?' A moment later, one of the servants from the governor's household appeared on the other side of the beach, jogging slightly to draw closer to them._

_'Five more minutes, Arthur?'_

_'No, I'm sorry, my lady,' he apologized, bowing. 'But these are your father's orders. Apparently, you're already too late as it is. Your father has some very important guests over tonight, remember?'_

_Elizabeth looked at Will._

_'We'll have to finish this conversation another time, I'm afraid.'_

_'I'll see you again soon, I hope. Don't forget our promise!'_

_'Never. Goodbye, Will.'_

##

That time, she had been the one to say goodbye. However, she always returned to her friend, she had never left him permanently . . . Elizabeth never left him. She never _wanted_ to leave him.

"I was not the one who forgot our promise, Will . . . You were."

##

Jack knew there was little he could do about the present situation. Elizabeth was in a very frail state of mind and nothing but time and acceptance would be able to heal her broken mentality. The only thing he could do for her was return her to her home . . . and then go and search for this "Damon" bastard . . .

"Whoever the hell he is," Jack thought menacingly. "How _dare_ he do that Elizabeth - dear, sweet Elizabeth."

The pirate leaned in closer to his friend and gently asked, 'Are ye all right?'

'No,' she replied honestly.

He grimaced.

'Come along, lass,' he said patiently. 'What's say we bring ye home, eh?'

##

'What was that noise?' Murtogg questioned; he nervously glanced over his shoulder and tightened his hold on his pistol.

'Is that him? Is he coming?' Commodore Norrington asked, his obvious impatience being the very antithesis of his character.

'Yes,' Mullroy replied. 'And he is with the governor's daughter.'

The other man's jaw almost dropped open surprise.

'Elizabeth?'

'Shall we attack now, Commodore?' Groves asked.

'No,' Norrington replied. 'She doesn't appear to be in any immediate danger.'

'Sir?'

'We shall wait,' the former said firmly. 'Do nothing unless I tell you otherwise.'

Groves bowed his head obediently.

'Yes, Commodore.'

##

'Ugh,' Elizabeth grunted in a very unladylike manner, stumbling over Jack's foot.

'Sorry,' the pirate muttered sheepishly.

They walked along for a while more . . . then Elizabeth staggered again.

'Jack!' she hissed vehemently.

'Sorry,' her companion apologized again.

After this happened a third time, Elizabeth's patience was worn thin.

'I swear, Jack Sparrow, if you do that again, I _will_ pop you one,' she warned.

'_Captain_,' was his nonchalant reply. '_Captain _Jack Sparrow - and don't ye be forgetting it, love.'

'I am _not _your love,' Elizabeth retorted irritably, although she had never protested about the pet name before. 'I am nobody's "love".' She started to feel tears welling up her in eyes again, but she restrained herself this time. Even though it helps one feel better for the time-being, crying was quite useless in the long run when she thought about.

"Crying will not bring Will back," she thought sadly. "Nothing will bring him back, except maybe-"

'Well, well, well, what do we have here?' a chillingly familiar voice said, shattering her thoughts. 'My dear, darling Miss Swann.'

Elizabeth became paralyzed with fear when Damon stepped out of a nearby alley and blocked their pathway. Seeing his hated face made her want to kill him, to actually _kill _him! What he had done to her was inexcusable by any measure.

She wanted to see him hanged . . . no - that would be too quick. He deserved to die slowly, to suffer . . . Perhaps he could be burned at the stake . . . but that would be too primitive. Then her gaze fell upon the weapons hanging at Jack's side.

"He can be stabbed with a sword," she decided darkly, "Or shot with a pistol . . . But it has to be in the stomach so that he'll suffer for _days _until he finally dies."

Unfortunately, she was unable to do any of that, for she was bound by the law - not to mention it would be almost selfish of her to wreak her revenge since such actions would reflect terribly on her father and his political reputation. The latter, other than being the governor of the people, was a very important figure in her life and she did not wish to repay him in kind by giving him a murderer for a daughter.

It took a great amount of effort, but Elizabeth managed to bite her tongue and restrain herself from lunging at Damon; her tightly closed fists were pressed firmly against her sides.

'You are looking well, Miss Swann,' Damon said amiably, but she knew him "intimately" enough to know that he was anything but. 'And who is this man you are with? A _pirate_, I presume? You keep strange company, my dear.'

'I'm not just any pirate, lad,' Jack intervened defensively, obviously not having seen Elizabeth's reaction nor caught on to who this man was. 'I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, feared and dreaded and wanted throughout the seven oceans and ten seas, savvy?'

'Indeed,' the other man replied, amused. _'Seven _oceans? _Ten _seas, you say? Well, then I suppose I should be glad that I live by the eleventh one,' he added sarcastically.

Jack laughed heartily, obviously unaware of his errors.

Had Elizabeth not been so frightened, she would have rolled her eyes in exasperation.

'Ha, I like ye,' Jack said frankly. 'What did ye say yer name was?'

Damon's eyes flickered towards Elizabeth's for the briefest of moments before holding out his hand to the pirate and saying, 'Damon, good fellow. My name is Damon.'

Jack's friendly mood vanished immediately.

'Damon,' he repeated, glancing over at Elizabeth for confirmation.

The latter nodded silently.

'Ah, I see that you've heard of me,' Damon said silkily. 'It appears that we share notoriety as well.'

Jack's eyes hardened and it suddenly became very clear to Elizabeth whyhe was "feared and dreaded and wanted" throughout the "ten seas".

'Ye son of a whore,' he whispered under his breath; his gaze was fixed intently on the dusty road beneath Damon's feet, as if willing the very flames of hell to burst out from it and take the man away to where he belonged. 'How could ye do such a thing to such an innocent dove? Ye hurt a dear friend of mine . . . and no one - absolutely _no one _- messes with the friend of a pirate and lives for long.'

Damon laughed, but his laughter did not reach his eyes.

'A swan is more appropriate than a dove,' he stated matter-of-factly, pointedly ignoring the rest of the other man's speech. 'And my reasons are of no significance,' he sneered. 'All that matters is that I did it.'

'Aye,' the pirate said simply. 'For once, we agree.'

Half a moment later, Jack pounced on Damon and pinned the other man securely beneath him with his legs. By the time Damon was able to recover his senses, the pirate had already pulled a dagger out of his boot and was holding the blade to his throat. The metal blade glinted dangerously in the moonlight.

'WHY?' Jack demanded, pressing the sharp side of the blade close enough to Damon's neck to draw blood. 'TELL ME, WHY THE BLOODY HELL WOULD YE DO IT?'

Damon coughed slightly, for the other man's weight was bearing down heavily on his lungs.

'Like I said, it doesn't matter,' he replied. 'Besides, I'm sure _you've_ put much thought into taking her as well, mate. She's a real looker - and probably a fiery vixen in bed when she puts her mind to it.' He smiled, but his smile soon became a grimace; he gritted his teeth in pain when Jack cut him deeper.

Jack scowled and raised the knife high above his head, poised for the kill.

'Elizabeth, get out of here,' he ordered her sternly. 'NOW!'

Elizabeth did not need to be told twice and immediately scurried away. Although she yearned for Damon's death with all of her being, she did not feel she would be able to stomach it, especially after her episode of illness that very morning.

Damon watched Elizabeth leave, but his face had about as much emotion as a potato. It was obvious that he did not care for her - never had and never would.

'She's a real looker,' he said again, returning his attention to Jack. 'I would definitely do it to her again if ever I have the chance!'

'Then I'll never give ye that chance,' he said, bringing his hands down with full force.

'Mr. Sparrow!' a familiar voice called.

Jack froze; the dagger shook rather unsteadily in his hands.

'_Captain_. _Captain_ Sparrow,' the pirate corrected instinctively. He sighed, already knowing who to expect when he turned around. 'As always, it's a terrible pleasure to see ye again, Commodore,' he said, glancing over his shoulder to confirm his suspicions.

'The pleasure is all mine,' was Norrington's sneering reply as he stepped forward. A band of his men followed closely behind him and - after given a silent signal - circled the pirate, pointing their sharp bayonets at his neck.

'Now, that isn't very nice,' Jack said, "accidentally" letting the blade slip down a few more inches towards Damon's chest.

Beneath him, Damon let out a pitiful whimper.

'You are abusing a citizen,' the commodore stated.

'To save _another_ citizen,' Jack calmly responded.

'I have reason to believe that it was the other way around.'

'Yes, sir!' Damon cried out convincingly, even managing to squeeze a few tears from his eyes. 'I tried to save a poor woman from being raped by this horrible pirate - he lost his temper and jumpedme!'

'Say that again,' Jack said menacingly; the knife lowered still further.

'Enough!' Norrington commanded. 'That is enough! Mr. Sparrow, if you would be so kind as to come along with my men and I - not that you have much of a choice,' he added under his breath, '- I do believe that there is a prison cell with your name on it.' His features hardened noticeably. 'At dawn, you will be hung.'

The pirate contemplated this for a moment.

'That sounds rather painful, Commodore. If I didn't know any better, I would think ye were trying to kill me.'

'Truly? I wonder where you acquired that impression.'

'Truly,' Jack echoed.

'Please, sir,' Damon pretended to beg, looking at the commodore pleadingly. 'I have done nothing wrong. Is it a crime to risk my own life to save that of a lady?'

'Liar!' the pirate snapped. 'Ye have the wrong man, Commodore!' He pointed an accusing finger at the man below him. '_This _is the man you want!'

'He is protected by the law,' Norrington replied. 'There are no witnesses for any crimes he may have committed.'

'Only victims.' Jack sneered.

The commodore glared at him. Then he snapped his fingers to call his men to attention.

'Take Mr. Sparrow into custody.'

'_Captain. Captain _Sparrow,' Jack muttered under his breath as the other men forcefully dragged his struggling form away from his victim. 'Ye'll be sorry ye did that, Norrington!' he warned.

Of course, Norrington ignored him and turned towards the other man, who had already stood up and was presently dusting himself off.

Jack scowled. Even from a distance, he noticed them exchange a few congenial words before Damon slunk back into an alleyway and disappeared from view.

He felt like screaming.

##


	5. Chapter V

##

**Chapter 5**

##

_"A man who gives a good account of himself is probably lying, since any life when viewed from the inside is simply a series of defeats." ~ George Orwell_

##

Elizabeth stood nervously outside the commodore's door. Despite the late hour, she had a strong suspicion she would find Norrington in his office, completing the paperwork for Jack's hanging the next morning. She had heard the news not long ago from some of her household servants, who were always kept up-to-date on such matters due to their obsession with gossip and rumors.

'Commodore?' Elizabeth inquired, knocking hesitantly. 'James?'

'Come in!' Norrington called out to her.

She opened the door to see Norrington sitting behind his large, handsome desk; his quill was scribbling furiously across some papers that were scattered about the desktop. A judge was sitting in one of the visitor chairs, shuffling another collection of papers in his hands.

'I'll be with you in a moment,' Norrington said to her, not glancing up.

Elizabeth sat down in the other visitor chair and impatiently waited for the commodore to complete his task.

The latter and his companion appeared to be very concentrated on their work. Every now and then, they would shift through their papers to inspect some detail or another, all the while speaking in hushed tones. After some time, Norrington finally set his papers down and looked over at her.

'Elizabeth?' he said in a shocked tone, as if he only just realized she had entered his office. 'I didn't expect to see you here this late in the evening.'

'Nor did I,' she replied honestly. She glanced at the judge, who was still working away. He appeared to be intent on his work, but he was still within hearing distance - far too close for comfort. 'Commodore, may I have a private word with you?'

'Of course.' Norrington turned to the judge. 'I'm in need of my office for a moment, I'm afraid. Can you ensure that nobody disturbs us, William?'

William . . . The judge's name was William . . . Just like Elizabeth's William . . . Her Will . . .

The realization shot a pang of pain straight to her heart.

'Of course,' the judge - William - said. 'But don't take too long, Commodore. We still have some important matters to discuss tonight.'

'Right. I shall try to make this quick.' He shot an apologetic glance at Elizabeth. 'I don't mean that what you have to say is unimportant, Elizabeth. I just meant-'

'It's fine,' Elizabeth interrupted. 'I understand you are both very busy right now.'

William grabbed his quill in one hand and a sheaf of papers in the other before finally exiting the room.

Norrington waited for the door to close behind him before he returned his attention to Elizabeth.

'So, what is it that you wish to speak to me about?' he asked as he returned his quill to its holder.

'Jack Sparrow.'

'Of course,' he said, realizing the obvious reason for her unexpected visit.

'I wish to see him, Commodore.'

Norrington sighed.

'I'm afraid I cannot allow that.'

'But I _must _see him!' she exclaimed, mentally adding, "With the kind of justice system that's run around here, I don't know if I'll ever have another opportunityto talk to him before he meets the hangman's rope! I have toapologize! It's _my _fault he's in there in the first place! If I never told him about Damon, none of this would have happened!" But she said none of this.

'Elizabeth?'

'Commodore,' she said, somewhat shakily, 'you have the wrong man. Jack only acted in the manner he did because he was trying to protect me from a bad man.'

'So you knew the other man prior to this encounter?'

'I did . . . Only briefly,' she added, 'but it's an encounter I will not soon forget.'

'How so?'

'I . . . I don't know if I can tell you,' Elizabeth said, turning away shamefully.

'Elizabeth, this may be vitally important to the freedom of your . . . friend,' Norrington finished with distaste.

Elizabeth snorted.

'We both know that the possibility of Jack being freed is one in a million.'

The commodore leaned over his desk, his eyes showing concern.

'I must know . . . please,' he said, changing his strategy.

After a moment of hesitation, she finally replied, but her voice was very soft - much too soft for the commodore to clearly make out what she was saying.

'I'm sorry, Elizabeth. What was that?'

'He . . . violated me,' Elizabeth repeated; her voice was slightly louder, but still barely above a whisper.

'Violated . . . As in, rape?' he asked uncertainly.

'Yes, James, rape! He raped me!' she snapped.

'_Rape_! Elizabeth, why didn't you tell me this before?' Norrington exclaimed.

'Would you? Oh, James, it's so humiliating!' she cried out, burying her face in her hands. 'It's so shameful!'

Norrington's jaw worked.

'I'll give the order for that man to be imprisoned immediately,' he said; his voice was eerily calm. 'But it may take some time, I'm afraid. We don't even know his name!'

'I can take you to him,' Elizabeth said. 'I know where he lives.'

Norrington did not need to ask why.

I'll send for some of my men to accompany you.'

'And what of Jack Sparrow?'

'I'll take care of that . . .'

Their eyes met and he smiled that reassuring smiling of his.

'This is Mr. Sparrow's lucky day,' Norrington added, trying to hint to Elizabeth what he was going to do. 'One in a million . . .'

##

BANG!

Jack's head shot up when he heard the heavy wooden door slam open, signaling someone's arrival. His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw Norrington enter the chamber.

"Already? Goodbye, Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl . . ."

'You are to be set free,' the commodore said, contradicting the pirate's thoughts.

Jack shook his head slightly.

'I'm sorry, mate. I must have misheard. I thought ye just said I'm being set free.'

'No. There was no miscommunication on my behalf.' The other man swiftly pulled out a set of keys from his coat pocket. 'You are to be set free . . . on some conditions,' he added slyly, holding the key just inches away from the cell lock.

'Isn't the norm _one _condition?'

The commodore sneered.

'One, you are to leave Port Royal immediately once you are released. No scurrying about for supplies to restock your ship.'

'Not even rum?'

Norrington gave him a hard look and Jack immediately avoided his gaze.

'No rum then . . .'

'Two-'

'I can get the rum and be out of yer hair before ye can say, "Bob's yer uncle",' he said hopefully, but the other man ignored him and continued.

'-you are to sever _all _ties you may have with Miss Swann - I do not want any form of communication occurring between you . . . and I _will _find out if you do.'

This time, Jack hesitated for a few moments before finally saying, 'Agreed, but only if ye let me say goodbye.'

'Fine,' Norrington said indifferently. 'Also, I prefer your presence here escapes the notice of civilians. Therefore, after you have left Port Royal, you are never to come back. _Ever_.'

'Is that "three"?

'In return, you will not only have your freedom, but I shall also turn a blind eye to your ship - which I don't doubt is stationed somewhere uncomfortably close to here - to allow you a day's start.'

'Right, well, it looks like I have little choice but to agree to the matter then, eh, mate? We have an accord.' He slipped his dirty hand through the bars and held it out to the commodore to shake.

'We have an agreement,' the latter confirmed, looking at the hand with an expression of disgust on his face.

'May I ask one question though?'

Norrington's hands, which were poised to open the door, halted abruptly.

'Yes?'

'Why? Why are ye doing this?' Jack asked, obviously confused by the sudden changes in his situation.

'Elizabeth . . . told me what happened to her,' he said, appearing somewhat hurt, as if he felt guilty for not being able to protect her himself.

'So Damon has been taken into custody?'

'Not that it is any business of yours, Mr. Sparrow, but he will be. I have already sent my men - along with Elizabeth - to his dwelling. I shall join them shortly.'

'Ye sent Elizabeth?'

'No one seems to know anything about him. _She_, however, knows where he lives. That would be the best place to start.'

'And what if he's not there anymore?' Jack inquired, leaning against the bars.

'What are you talking about?'

'What if he's not there anymore?' the pirate repeated patiently. 'There's no way to be absolutely certain, but I'm sure he has suspected that yehave suspected the suspected crime that he suspectedly committed against Miss Swann.' After having said this, Jack noticed that Norrington's features paled visibly. 'Ah, I see that ye had yet to realize this possibility.'

'Well, I only just found out about this crime a short while ago!' Norrington retorted, turning to leave. 'I must go to my men. They will need my support to locate evidence concerning his whereabouts.'

'Ahem,' Jack intervened, glancing pointedly at his locked cell door.

'I shall return later to release you - you have my word, the word of Commodore Norrington.'

'Listen, mate, I don't like ye and ye don't like me, but if ye release me _now_, I do believe that I may be able to help ye out.' He flashed the commodore his golden smile. 'What do ye say, Commodore?'

##

In the end, Norrington had decided that accepting Jack Sparrow's help with the Damon situation could not hurt. After all, if the pirate so much as _thought _about disobeying the law right in front of said government official, he would likely - no, _surely_ - find a bullet in his head.

'How much further is this son of a bitch's place?' Jack asked impatiently, taking long strides to match the commodore's.

'It's just up ahead,' Norrington replied, too distracted to chastise the other man for his rude language. Besides, who was he to reprimand Jack when he possessed the same opinion of Damon? Shaking the thoughts from his head, he glanced down at the sheet of paper in his hand, on which was written the directions to Damon's house. A young boy had delivered it to him after having been paid a shilling to do so (by Gilette, no doubt).

'Good. I'm going to make that bloody arse pay dearly for raping Elizabeth . . .' Jack muttered darkly. 'He deserves to be punished! Her child, however, is not to blame, regardless of all the troubles that he or she has caused thus far.' (He referred, of course, to the conflict between Elizabeth and Will - not that the commodore knew anything about that.)

'Mr. Sparrow, I believe you should leave this matter in the hands of the law and-' Norrington stopped himself in mid-sentence, having just realized what the pirate had said. 'She's pregnant? Elizabeth is with child?'

'Aye, I do believe that is the usual definition of "pregnant",' Jack said offhandedly. 'Except in Singapore.'

'Elizabeth is with child,' Norrington repeated; his usually strict features softened noticeably. 'She has a child growing within her . . . Bloody hell . . .' His pace slowed and he obscurely pinched himself, wondering if he was dreaming.

'Oops. Did she not tell ye, mate?' Jack inquired.

'She said that Damon had violated her,' the commodore stated, although it was not in his normally dry manner. 'She did not tell me a child had resulted from their harsh union.'

'I see . . .'

'Commodore!' someone called from afar, sounding frantic. A moment later, Groves emerged from a nearby house, which was just as run-down as all the others they had passed on the street. He was quite disheveled, certainly not on par with his usual collected appearance.

'What is it, Groves?' Norrington asked, still trying to get over the shock of Elizabeth's pregnancy.

'It's Damon, sir.'

'What happened?' Jack demanded. 'Did he hang himself? Shoot himself? Commit suicide in any way? That bastard! He _knew _I was going to kill him and has put my goal to an end before I even had the chance to plan it!' The pirate had started to ramble. 'I couldn't decide between a quick death or a slow death; slow would be preferable, obviously, because of its "suffering" appeal, but quick would get rid of the problem that much faster-'

'Mr. Sparrow,' Norrington interrupted. 'Is that the manner in which a newly-released prisoner should act?'

Jack's face fell.

'No, sir,' he replied, sounding very much like a scolded child.

The commodore returned his attention to the soldier with a roll of his eyes.

'Where is Damon, Groves?' he asked.

'Damon . . . Well, sir, he's _gone_!

Whatever remaining thoughts Norrington had about Elizabeth vanished in the blink of an eye.

'Gone? What do you mean he's gone?'

'Just that, sir. He must have panicked after our encounter last night and packed up his belongings, not that there were very many to begin with, it looks like,' Groves said with distaste, glancing pointedly at the disheveled house. 'But he _did _appear to take the basics - like food and clothing - as well as any valuable possessions he may have been able to sell. To be honest, sir, it does not seem like he will return to Port Royal for a very long time.'

The commodore sighed.

'Never mind that now, Groves. Speak with the harbormaster. Ask him if he saw any shady creatures leaving the docks last night. Bring a few men with you to question the fishermen and labourworkers and anyone else who may have been near and around the harbor. Tell Gilette to take some soldiers with him to the other end of town and question the citizens there, just in case he decided to take the main road. Any other available guards are to start visiting the homes of the civilians in the surrounding area; tell them to leave no corner unsearched. Damon may very well be hiding out in the residence of a friend - he may still be in Port Royal! I shall stay here to speak to the people living about here, just in case any of them have an idea where he was headed. Is that clear?'

'Yes, sir,' Groves said obediently.

'And you, I would like you to-' Norrington began, returning his attention to Jack.

But the pirate had already vanished.

##


	6. Chapter VI

##

**Chapter 6**

##

_"There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it." ~ Oscar Wilde_

##

Damon left.

Jack _knew _he had left even before the news reached Norrington and confirmed it.

It would be pure insanity for Damon to stay in Port Royal (even under the protection of a friend, if he had any - a son of a whore like him did not _deserve _to have friends!) when almost all of Norrington's battalion was out looking for him. Despite his famed madness, even Captain Jack Sparrow was not stupid enough to stick around when someone was after him, so he saw no reason why Damon would be. The latter did not seem to be a foolish person. The only foolish thing he did was rape Elizabeth in the first place. That bastard.

"It's too bad I couldn't say goodbye to Elizabeth though," the pirate thought sadly, tipping his hat down to hide his face. "The next time I see her won't be until I have Damon's head on a platter, so who knows how long that will be?"

It had taken him less than an hour to forget his promise to the commodore that he was supposed to cut all ties he had with the governor's daughter - typical pirate.

Jack hastily walked through the streets of Port Royal, trying to make his way back to the ship as quickly as possible. When he reached the shore, he noticed a nearby fleet of rowboats which were innocently waiting for their masters to return. He glanced down the length of the beach and saw that the harbor was still quite a distance away. Then he glanced back at the boats.

"Well, maybe I could just trade mine for one of these," he reasoned with himself, climbing into the nearest one.

##

'Jack. Ye. Are. Late,' Anamaria carefully enunciated each word upon his arrival at the ship.

'I'm not late. I'm just punctually indifferent,' Jack replied, climbing the last rung of the rope ladder and jumping onto the deck.

'Did ye run into trouble, Jack?' Gibbs asked. 'We were about to send someone in after ye.'

'No, things are all right now.'

'Now? Gibbs echoed.

'Aye. I _did _encounter some trouble from those mad, confined landlubbers, but it was nothing too serious.'

'What did ye in this time?'

'My wonderful, rewarding, free life as a pirate,' Jack explained.

'So how did ye escape? The usual way?' Gibbs asked.

For many pirates, the "usual" way was killing the guards and making an obscure getaway. For Captain Jack Sparrow, however, the "usual" way was always something mad . . . like using his filthy leg hair to make the guards sneeze, thus distracting them long enough to escape.

'Believe it or not,' the captain said, 'I escaped from the prison _legally_ and have Norrington's blessing to continue living . . . for the time-being.' He placed a finger to his lips. 'But that's hush hush. If anyone knew about that, it could ruin me reputation, savvy?' He looked hard at the other man. 'And yers as well, I think, Mr. Gibbs. Send someone in after me? Are ye out of yer bloody mind?'

Gibbs grinned sheepishly.

'Aye, well, we were squeamish for some rum.' He excitedly stepped behind Jack, as if expecting the other pirate to be hiding a bottle of rum behind his back. His disappointment was soon apparent on his face.

'Sorry, mate,' Jack said with a shrug, holding out his empty ends.

'Oy, Jack, that isn't ours!' Anamaria exclaimed suddenly, glancing down at the rowboat that the captain had ridden in from the harbor.

'It's a rental,' Jack explained. 'Now, formalities aside, we have bigger issues at hand, mates.'

##

Damon had gone.

Elizabeth could not believe he was gone. She and Norrington's guards had come _so _close to making the man pay for his heinous crime - _so close_! But close was not good enough for anything. Burying her face in her hands, she collapsed onto a chair and wept silently.

'What am I doing?' she asked herself aloud, wiping the hot tears from her eyes. 'Since when have I been so weak?'

'It's not a weakness to admit you are weak,' someone said, entering the room.

Startled, Elizabeth glanced up.

'James,' she greeted. 'What are you doing here?' In an almost paralyzing state of shock from Damon's unexpected absence, she had remained in the desolate house. The guards who accompanied her, however, had hastened away to search for him elsewhere after they realized he was no longer there, apparently on the orders of Gilette.

'I would ask you the same thing,' he said, not unkindly.

'Are you not going to accompany your men?'

'In due time. I wished to check on you first,' he said soothingly. 'Are you all right?'

'I've been better,' Elizabeth said with a soft sigh, staring at the ground.

'And the child?'

Her gaze suddenly snapped up to meet his.

'You know about that?' she asked, incredulous.

'Sparrow told me.'

A wry smile made its way to her lips.

'_Captain _Sparrow,' she corrected him. 'So he told you . . . and where is he now?'

'I'm not quite certain, but I believe he may be searching for Damon as well.'

Elizabeth nodded.

'Perhaps. It would be true to his character, I suppose.'

'Yes. He cares dearly for you, that pirate.'

'Yes,' she agreed. 'I am lucky to have such a friend. He is a good man.'

'And _I _shall always be there for you as well, Elizabeth,' Norrington said, as if trying to convince her that he was much better for her than Jack . . . which he probably was. 'You know that, right?' He crouched down beside her to look her in the eye.

'I know that,' she replied. 'For which I am very grateful.'

The commodore smiled and placed his comforting hand atop hers for a moment. Then he said, 'I'm afraid I must go now, Elizabeth, but do not hesitate to call on me if you are ever in need of a friend.'

'I'll do that,' she said, but she could not return his smile. 'Thank you.'

'That's what friends are for . . . Things will work out, do not fret.' After flashing her one more look of encouragement, Norrington departed, leaving Elizabeth alone once more . . .

. . . Alone, save for her memories.

##

How many months had passed since he left Port Royal? Seven? Eight? Will had lost count long ago. It was easy to lose track of time when one was dwelling in a place like Tortuga, a city where every day blurred into the next due to the copious consumption of whiskey and rum.

On the fateful day Elizabeth had shared the news of her pregnancy with Will, he had packed up his belongings and left Port Royal for good. Given the vastness of the oceans, Will knew that searching for the notorious Black Pearl on his own was folly. Thus, he had decided to do the next best thing. He traveled to Tortuga, where Captain Jack Sparrow would no doubt make berth at some point or another.

Will had taken the very first vessel out of Port Royal, away from his former wife-to-be. That was the easy part. Finding a ship that sailed for Tortuga (of all places!) proved to be extremely difficult. Nevertheless, Will gritted it out and managed to make it to the pirate city within a few months. Since then, he had impatiently been whittling the time away, asking anyone and everyone if they knew if and when Jack would be arriving.

Aye, they all _knew_ Jack - for many, in more ways than one - but no one knew when he would be coming back.

Time seemed to pass by so slowly when one had nothing to do. Or next to nothing, anyhow. He had managed to secure a temporary - but slow-paced - job at a blacksmith shop, but there were so few sane (let alone sober) people in Tortuga that the amount of work could never equal the hustle and bustle of Port Royal he had grown used to.

Ah, Port Royal. He missed it dearly. Although it was not his birthplace, it was the city in which he grew up. It was the place where his heart laid . . . or used to, anyway. His heart had shattered on the day Elizabeth told him she was pregnant. Although they did not put it into actual words, both of them knew the child was not his. It was absolutely impossible for the child to be his.

Will sighed and distractedly went about his work. He hammered a length of metal on a heavy anvil, creating sparks.

'I wonder when Jack is going to return,' he said to himself for what had to be the fiftieth time in the past hour. The distraction was not without its consequences; he hissed in pain when he felt the extreme heat from the rod graze his arm.

'Careful, Turner, lad,' Eric, the head blacksmith warned, plunging a burning length of metal into water, where it released billows of thick steam. 'You don't want to be losing that arm . . . and definitely not in this city.'

Just then, Will heard the menacing, raucous laughter of the townsfolk from a nearby tavern and his gaze darted over to a pile of unfinished swords in the corner. No. He most definitely did not want to lose that arm - he had the strong suspicion he would need his sword arm in Tortuga, not to mention the city was not exactly known for its exceptional medical care.

After carefully treating and bandaging his injured arm, Will continued on with his work. Before long, however, his thoughts began to wander again, to a place far, far away, to a time that seemed so very long ago . . .

##

'Elizabeth?' Will inquired shyly, glancing over at his friend.

'Yes?' she replied. Elizabeth casually brushed her long, wavy hair away from her face, so as to view her companion unhindered.

Will's breath caught in his throat. Her exquisite beauty delved its way into his teenage mind, making it difficult for him to see anything besides the delicate vision placed before him. On the horizon, the sun was setting, casting a soft, natural glow upon her soft, lovely features.

'We . . . we will always be together, right?' he stuttered awkwardly, glancing down at his feet.

'Yes . . .'

'No matter what?'

'Of course!'

'You promise?'

'Yes, I promise.'

'I promise, too.' Will finally looked up. Upon encountering her splendor once more, his apprehension returned anew. He stood awkwardly beside her, shifting his weight from side to side. Some time had passed before he finally asked, 'We will never leave each other, right? We will always be together?'

'Yes, we will always be friends.'

'Yes . . . friends . . .' he said, almost hearing the cracks forming in his heart.

'Will, is something wrong? Why are you asking these questions?'

'Well . . . I'm . . . not sure . . . I suppose . . .' Will sighed and his grip tightened on the boots in his hand.

'Yes?'

_'I suppose that-'_

##

Will clearly remembered that day. One of the governor's servants had interrupted him, not knowing what an important moment it might have been for the two youngsters, what might have been . . .

'It was suppertime,' he muttered bitterly to himself. The pressure of his hammer on the metal rod became more forceful as his emotions began to get the better of him.

Bam!

'Elizabeth had to leave . . .' he murmured darkly to himself.

Bam!

'Elizabeth _wanted_ to leave . . .'

Bam! _And it was then that Will's mumblings shifted to a different source, one that had nothing to do with the childhood memory._

'I never even realized what was happening . . .'

Bam!

'And when I finally opened my eyes . . .'

Bam!

'I saw her for what she truly was . . .'

Bam!

'A bitch!'

_Bam!_

'A whore!'

Bam!

'Pregnant!

Bam!

'How could she be pregnant?

Bam!

'How could she betray me like that?'

Bam!

'I thought she loved me!'

Bam!

'I thought we would always be together!'

Bam!

'How naïve of me to think of her as anything-'

BAM!

'-but a bloody-'

BAM!

'-little-'

BAM!

'-WHORE!'

Suddenly, Will's concentration collapsed entirely and he accidentally released the metal rod that he was working on. The hammer descended upon the loose iron with brutal force, causing it to soar into the air. It then proceeded to land in Eric's pail of water, effectively drenching him in the now boiling hot liquid.

'AHHH!' the other blacksmith screamed as the burning heat began to seep into his skin.

Will immediately rushed to his aid with hasty apologies, but his mind continued wander, swiftly shifting between the past and present without warning.

##


	7. Chapter VII

##

**Chapter 7**

##

_"It is easy to hate and it is difficult to love. This is how the whole scheme of things works. All good things are difficult to achieve; and bad things are very easy to get." ~ Rene Descartes_

##

Will groaned and wearily let himself into his flat. It was little more than a shoebox and he had been renting it out for much more than it was worth, but Will hardly cared. It was the location that had caught his interest and made his makeshift home so important. There was a large bay window facing out to the sea, so he would be able to see if and when the Black Pearl was appearing just over the horizon. The only problem was, of course, that the ship had yet to appear.

'I doubt they've gotten caught though,' he said confidently to himself. 'It's not the last pirate ship out there for no reason and Jack always has a hidden agenda up that filthy sleeve of his. Besides, I think news would have traveled far and wide if the Black Pearl, the last pirate ship to sail the seven seas, was caught.'

Will tossed his sack next to the bed, causing the heavy bag to make a loud "flumping" sound. Yes, it was irritably heavy and bothersome. Nevertheless, the blacksmith preferred to carry it around with him, lest thieves broke into his apartment and stole the little he had left. Bargaining passage to Tortuga was not a simple feat and he had been forced to sell many of his possessions in the process.

'I wonder when Jack will arrive,' he murmured, sitting down on his bed. He leaned over to pull off his boots, grimacing when his muscles screamed in anguish.

After the water incident in the shop earlier that day, Will anticipated a violent discharge from his master or, at the very least, some sound verbal lashings. However, Eric took it reasonably well. "Reasonably well", however, only described his average reaction. True, he did not dismiss Will. However, he did force the latter to do some hard labour - in particular, heavy lifting.

Will had soon found himself traveling to the port to retrieve a new shipment of metal and deliver it to the shop. The intense work was usually done by a team of people, burly men who wanted to earn a bit of cash, but . . . circumstances decided he was to do it solo this time.

It was now late into the night and Will was exhausted. Nevertheless, he had promised to return early the next morning to finish the task. He desperately needed this job, at least until Jack arrived. It would be extremely difficult to search for another position, one where - for lack of a less crude description - he would be able to keep his virginity.

Yes, Will was still a virgin. Since he had loved Elizabeth for the better part of his life, he had never felt the compulsion to seek comfort in another's arms. He loved her and only her . . .

'Then why am I here?' he asked himself, lying down on the slightly grimy bed. At least it was better than sleeping outside. The sounds of shattering glass and a piercing shriek of pain a moment later supported his thoughts. Yes. This was definitely better than sleeping outside. Still . . .

'Bloody hell! When is Jack going to arrive?'

##

'Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for-'

'Land ho!' Gibbs called out happily from the cockpit, interrupting the other pirate.

'Mr. Gibbs!' Jack yelled loud enough for him to hear, even from his high altitude. 'Ye just interrupted me singing!' He laughed cheerfully. 'Now I will just have to begin again.'

And so he did.

'Captain!' Anamaria scolded him in her typical fashion. 'We don't have time for that right now.'

'There is always time for a good song,' the man replied. 'Man the sails,' he sang, heeding her words (although he would never admit it) and making up a ridiculous song as he spun the helm about. 'And prepare . . . to lower the anchors! Don't forget . . . to bring out the ales! For we have reached . . . Tortuga! Tortuga! . . . It rhymes with "moruga"! . . . And "uga"! Huzzah!' He turned the wheel slightly, steering the ship towards the long-awaited pirate city. 'Tortuga! . . . It is the home to any pirate! . . . Be they man, woman, lion, or hare! . . . Because no one will find ye there. . . even if ye are an ape! . . . It is the home to any scallywag . . . who might decide to-' He paused. '-rape . . . you . . .'

Jack was suddenly transported to another time not too long ago, at the place that was slowly coming into view before them, where the "impossible" had occurred . . .

##

_There he was. _

_Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl, the finest ship to sail the ten seas, with his head held high and a bottle of rum swinging jauntily from hand to hand._

_'Excuse me, my fine fellow,' someone suddenly said._

_Taken back by the polite tone of the stranger, Jack quickly turned to confront the alley from which the voice had come. Standing in the narrow opening was a dashing man with a cigarette perched daintily on his lips._

_'Were ye talking to me?' Jack asked, confused to have been addressed as such - that is to say, a "fine fellow"._

_'Do you see any other fine fellows around?' the other man asked, taking a deep swig out of his cigarette._

_The pirate did not even bother to look around._

_'Can't say that I do,' he said honestly. 'And I'm sorry to burst yer bubble, but I don't exactly swing_ _that way, mate. Yer way, I mean.'_

_The stranger smiled darkly and allowed a spiral of smoke to escape his lips._

_'Is that so, Captain Jack Sparrow?'_

_Now Jack was more confused than ever._

_'No matter, I'm not a prostitute anyway,' the man added._

_Jack sighed, not knowing if it was a sigh of relief or disappointment._

_'You don't know me,' his companion continued, 'but I certainly know all about you . . . after all, who _hasn't _heard of Captain Jack Sparrow, the man who has imitated a cleric and a lawman, the man who escaped from a forgotten, deserted island within a matter of days.' He casually leaned against the wall and gazed keenly at the pirate. 'Your reputation precedes you, Captain.'_

_Jack had no reply to this, so instead he asked, 'And what business have ye with me?'_

_'Just a small invitation,' the other man said, 'to join me and my fellows down by the tavern for some drinks . . . on us, of course.'_

_'What's the catch?' the pirate asked with no small amount of suspicion._

_'No catch,' the stranger said. 'We merely wish for the honour of your company.' He tossed his cigarette onto the ground and put it out with his heel. 'So, what say you . . . Captain?'_

##

_Hours later, Jack found himself the victim of physical paralysis. Now, more than ever, he regretted having left his bottle alone, giving the stranger (whose name he was never told) and his companions the perfect opportunity to drug his drink._

_What progressed after that was merely a painful blur to the pirate._

_Hands . . . groping . . ._

_Rope . . . binding . . ._

_Lips . . . kissing . . ._

_Tongues . . . licking . . ._

_Voices . . . laughing . . . _

_Then what had to be the worst of them all-  
Men . . . raping._

_Men raping _him_._

_The scariest part of it all was the realization that some small part of him actually enjoyed their masculine touch. _

_Their bodies were harder and more muscular than those of women . . ._

_Their voices were deep and sultry . . ._

_Their hands were larger, easily able to map out his shivering form . . ._

_Their five o'clock shadows felt both rough and smooth as they rubbed against his shaft, raising his desire . . ._

_Then there were the parts that made these men "men". Despite the fiery pain that pierced through his loins, Jack could not help but groan with more than a little measure of bliss. These strangers, these _rapists_, were pleasuring him in ways that he had never thought imaginable._

_That scared him._

_That was something that would scare anyone, including the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow._

_It was not over quickly._

_When the men finally released him, he was in a decrepit state, not favoured by the fact that they had dragged him out onto the side of the road and simply left him there. _

_Captain Jack Sparrow . . . violated._

_Captain Jack Sparrow . . . conquered._

_He was cold . . . he was hungry . . . he was battered . . . he was in pain - very, _very _real pain . . ._

_And he was transformed with his new revelation . . ._

_. . . He liked having sex with men . . . _

##

'Let's go,' Jack said a little too stiffly to his crew. He swung his pack over his shoulder and made his way down a rope ladder to the row boat situated below it.

Some of the crew followed soon after. The other members of the crew were to stay on board the Black Pearl overnight to guard it, which was especially important when considering the region they were in; they would be relieved by the others the next evening.

The men in the boats steadily rowed their way to shore. When they arrived, Jack jumped out and made his way down the beach, calling over his shoulder, 'Have fun, mates. Get yerselves some nice lasses to spend the night with and drink to yer heart's content . . . but ye have to be sober enough tomorrow to replace the others on board,' he reminded them, adopting his rarely-used stern tone.

'Aye, aye,' they replied in response.

'And what of ye, Captain?' one pirate asked hesitantly.

'I have some business to attend to,' the man replied, not bothering to expand his explanation.

'Aye, sir.'

Jack grinned and continued on his way.

##

_All these months later, even when she was swelling with child and it became more and more difficult for her to move about (for she had flatly refused her father's pleas to abort the baby - it was, after all, an innocent being in this whole mess), Elizabeth still constantly found herself wandering near the blacksmith shop. On one of these days, she let herself into Will's old apartment and surveyed the small dwelling._

_The furniture and floors were dusty from lack of use. Cobwebs had formed in the corners and edges of the room. The windows were starting to become grimy. Not to mention the entire place had an air of loneliness about it. But Elizabeth had refused to get rid of it._

_Weeks after Will left, she approached his landlord and offered to pay his rent until he returned to Port Royal. Despite the warnings and advice from those closest to her, including her maid and her father, she still vehemently clung to the hope that Will would someday return and give her the chance to explain what happened. She loved him with all her heart and was not ready to let him go, so all she could do was hope._

_Hope that he returned . . . hope that he let her explain . . . hope that he still loved her, even if it was only the tiniest bit . . ._

_Elizabeth sat down on one of the rickety wooden chairs at the dining table. She remembered visiting Will and sharing meals together with him at this very table since they were young teens. She had hoped they would share many more meals together still, but fate apparently had other plans for them._

A memory suddenly entered Elizabeth's thoughts, one she had nearly forgotten, for it had been stored deep within the depths of her mind. She did not know how, she did not know why, but the memory resurfaced in her now, bringing a fresh twinge of pain to her already-broken heart. It was yet another of the many memories she had of Will when the two of them were still young.

Yes. Elizabeth still remembered what Will had wanted to say to her that day, that day from so long ago. It was not until a week later that they had finally been able to resume their previous conversation.

##

'Will? Do you remember what it was you wanted to say to me?' Elizabeth asked, nervously playing with the edges of her skirt. 'Oh, that? It's . . . it's not important,' Will replied. 'Don't worry about it.' 'I'm not worried, but I'm certain that it was important. Otherwise, you would never have brought it up to begin with,' she said earnestly. 'Well . . .' 'Yes?' 'I suppose-''

_'Yes, that is where we left off the last time,' Elizabeth said impatiently, resisting the urge to stomp her foot like a child._

_'You said we would always be friends, right?'_

_'Yes, Will. We have already gone through this.'_

_'Well . . . suppose that we . . . that we were something more . . .' Will's face turned a flattering shade of red._

_'What do you mean?'_

_'Well . . . I suppose . . . I've always hoped for something more . . . than what we have,' he stammered awkwardly. 'What I mean to say is that . . . that I . . . I lo-'_

##

Unfortunately, their conversation had been disrupted yet again. This time, it was Will's master, Mr. Brown, who interrupted them, calling for Will to return to the blacksmith shop and help him - or do all the work for him, as the case was. This time, the wait between this serious conversation and its conclusion had not been as short as one week. Years passed before Elizabeth finally learned of Will's intentions, after they had survived many dangerous pirate experiences together, when they were about to witness one of their friends (a pirate himself) being hung as punishment for a lifetime of lawlessness.

Yes, it was on Captain Jack Sparrow's supposed day of execution when Will finally told Elizabeth he loved her, that he had loved her since the day they first met.

After that, their lives had been quite content for some time, their love neither growing nor faltering, for it already appeared perfect.

And then . . . "it" happened.

And everything went downhill from there.

##

'Governor Swann. Commodore . . . Elizabeth . . .'

_##_

_Will had not called her by her given name for years, since they were children and he had finally learned his place in Port Royal's political hierarchy._

_##_

_'_I should have told you every day from the moment I met you . . .'

_##_

_But what was hierarchy, anyway? It was nothing more than a way to pass judgment upon people with circumstances that were less fortunate than one's own. Despite the influence it had on society as a whole, it had little influence upon Elizabeth Swann and William Turner Jr., for nothing was able prevent them from being together._

'I love you.'

##

Nothing . . . except "it".

##


	8. Chapter VIII

##

**Chapter 8**

_## _

_"Gratitude is the memory of the heart." ~ French Proverb_

_##_

'You can go now, Will,' Eric told the other man. 'You've done enough for today.'

'Okay.' After Will returned his tools to their places, he wiped the back of his hand over his sweaty brow. It had been a trying day, but he was relieved he was able to keep busy and forget his troubles, not to mention make a little money on the side. If he did not have this job, each of his days would easily run into the next and he would have no thoughts that did _not _focus on Jack's ever-hopeful arrival and Elizabeth's betrayal.

Even after all these months, he still could not find it in his heart to forgive her. It was true that he loved her, yet perhaps it wasthat love that made it so hard for him to accept this. To have realized that someone so close to him had betrayed him was nothing short of . . . torment. . .

'No, I _must _stop thinking about her,' he ordered himself. 'I'm on the road to a new life now, a life that will begin as soon as Jack gets here.' He furrowed his brow resolutely. 'He _will _come to Tortuga. I just have to be patient and wait for him. Yes, that's it.'

Will picked up his bag and started to make his way back to his temporary home. On the way there, however, he encountered a scantily clad woman gesturing to him seductively.

'Hello, stranger,' she greeted him with full, rosy lips. 'Are you looking for a companion tonight?'

Subconsciously, Will looked her up and down. Behind all that overdone make-up, she was absolutely lovely to say the least. Her dark hair glinted magnificently in the light from a nearby pub and her skin practically glowed with youth. Her deep brown eyes beckoned to him, inviting the blacksmith and offering to him what was hers to give.

'I . . .' He swallowed. 'No, I am not,' he finally said.

'Are you sure, sweetie?' she asked, pouting. 'I could make it worth your while.'

'Well . . .'

'I have fair rates,' she interrupted the blacksmith, leaning against the wall of the building. 'But for you, gorgeous, I could lower them even more . . . amongst other things.' Her dress "accidentally" slipped, exposing more of her perky breasts to Will.

'No,' the man said again. 'That is my final decision - I'm sorry.'

'Please?' she whispered huskily, hoisting up her dress to reveal a smooth, creamy thigh.

'The man said "no",' a new voice said.

The pair turned to stare at the newcomer, who turned out to be a rather handsome fellow with long, dark locks and gleaming blue eyes. He was wearing a long dark cloak.

'Are you interested instead, handsome?' she asked suggestively.

'Not in your life,' the man replied with a hard look.

'Then mind your own business!' she snapped. 'Begone!'

'No,' the stranger said firmly. 'I've been watching you. I know what you're capable of, so I'm not leaving until I know this man is safe.'

'What do you mean?' Will asked, speaking for the first time in a while.

'This woman - this _whore_ - plans to murder you and steal your belongings,' the stranger said, causing the blacksmith's eyes to widen in shock.

'That's a lie!' the prostitute said. 'I would never do such a thing.'

'Really?' the man asked, unconvinced. 'You're a terrible excuse of a woman. In a place like Tortuga, I would say that hurting people is sometimes necessary. However, killingthem just crosses the line!'

The harlot, despite her initial attractiveness to Will, suddenly became very ugly indeed, for the expression on her face was one of great contempt.

'But in Tortuga, it may be one's only means to survive.'

'So you _have _killed men before?' Will inquired.

'No! I-' Realizing that her arguments were futile, the woman stopped herself in mid-sentence and accepted her defeat. With slumped shoulders, she sulked away into the darkness.

'Thank you,' the blacksmith said to the stranger.

'It was no trouble,' the latter replied, holding out his hand, ' Mr. . . .?'

'Turner . . . William Turner,' Will said, shaking the other man's hand.

'Pleasure to meet you, William.'

'You can call me "Will".'

'"Will" it is then! I'm Damon, by the way. Would you care to join me for a drink? _You_ are buying, of course.' Then he started laughing.

'Of course,' Will said, laughing along with him. For some reason, however, he thought he heard darkness in Damon's laughter, but _surely_ he was just imagining things.

'Come along then,' Damon said, clapping him heartily on the shoulder. 'I know a place nearby.' He led Will down one road after another, until the two of them stood in front of a rather sorry-looking pub with a broken sign hanging in the front; the blacksmith tilted his head slightly to the side to read "The Lion's Den".

'Damon, are you sure this place is . . . er . . . safe?' he asked hesitantly.

'Sure it is,' Damon said. 'You're not scared, are you?'

'No,' Will replied, somewhat affronted.

Damon laughed.

'Don't worry, I've got your back, Will,' he said with a wink. He obscurely opened the front of his cloak to show Will the sword that was hidden underneath.

'Then I've got yours,' Will said, indicating his own sword (which was hanging from his belt).

'Are you any good with that thing?'

'I'm not too bad,' Will replied offhandedly.

Damon made a sudden movement towards the blacksmith, who reacted instinctively and whipped his sword out of its scabbard. Will grimaced sheepishly when he realized that the other man was laughing again.

'I'm just messing with you,' Damon said. 'You can put that little stick of yours away.'

Will slipped the sword out of sight once more.

'It's hardly little,' he said irritably. 'I would know - I made it myself.'

'Ooh, big man,' Damon teased. Then he opened the door and gestured for Will to step inside.

The blacksmith entered and was immediately taken back by what he saw. This pub was just as rundown as its counterparts nearby, but its environment was much, _much_ quieter and calmer than that of the other pubs and taverns since there were only a handful of customers there. Despite its darkness (for only a few lamps had been lit and none of them were very bright) and its filthiness (this pub was in _Tortuga_, after all), this atmosphere certainly suited Will better than other bars since he generally preferred the chance to chat with his fellows rather than just drink his arse off. Hopefully, he would be awarded the chance to get to know his rescuer a bit better.

'Hey, Seamus,' Damon greeted the bartender. 'Just the usual for me and my friend here.'

Will started slightly when Seamus, a burly man with long sideburns, suddenly came out from the shadows and into the faint light of a nearby lamp. The bartender leisurely pulled out a bottle of rum and two glasses before sulking away once more. Will's nose wrinkled in disgust when he noticed the grime that coated the bottle and the glasses, but Seamus was the last man he would ever want to complain to.

Damon nodded his thanks in the general direction of the bartender before popping the bottle open and pouring some of the potent liquid into Will's glass and his own.

'Cheers, mate,' he said, lifting his glass.

'Cheers,' Will repeated,' clinking the edges of their glasses together. Then they both took a swig of their drinks.

'Ah,' Damon sighed, smacking his lips satisfactorily.

'Damon, can I ask you something?' Will asked, cradling his drink in his hand.

'It seems you just did,' Damon joked, 'but go ahead.'

'Why did you save me? I mean, have you saved others like me before?'

Damon sighed.

'No,' he admitted, 'but I don't think that now is the best time to ask me this.' He poured more rum into their glasses.

'Have we met before?' Will asked suspiciously.

'Not in the traditional sense of the word.' Damon drained his glass once more. 'Drink up,' he said, indicating Will's drink. Upon seeing the look on the blacksmith's face, he added, 'We can talk about this later.'

Will sighed and lifted his glass, tipping it in Damon's direction as a sort of salute.

'Cheers.'

##

After that would-be disastrous night, Will and Damon spent more and more time together, quickly becoming good friends. Will had been thrilled to find another citizen of Port Royal in this hole of a city - what were the odds, eh? Not only that, he learned there were a lot of things that he had in common with the other man. They were both skilled sailors and sword fighters; Damon was not a blacksmith by any means (he said he had been a fisherman in Port Royal), but he was certainly as interested in weaponry as Will.

'I still cannot believe our paths have never crossed before,' Will said one day as the two men made their way to the harbor. The blacksmith had just finished work and, as was his usual habit of late, met up with Damon for some civilized company.

"For once," he thought irritably, avoiding a pair of men nearby who were engrossed in their pleasures. "It's certainly not easy to come by in this sorry excuse of a city."

'Ah, well, as I've mentioned before,' Damon said, 'Port Royal isn't exactly a small town. Besides, I doubt I'd find the likes of you in my area.'

'What does that mean?' Will asked, affronted.

Damon shrugged.

'I mean, you're engaged to the governor's daughter! Why would you be hanging around the slums?'

Will frowned.

'Was,' he corrected. 'I _was _engaged to Elizabeth, but not anymore.'

They had reached the harbor. Will leaned over the metal railing that lined the path, admiring the flawless night sky before him. Billions of stars sparkled overhead, almost making it easy for him to forget his troubles . . . _almost_.

'Will, you'd say we're friends, right?'

'I haven't known you for that long,' Will said slowly, 'but yes, I would say we're friends.'

Damon smiled, his teeth glistening slightly in the darkness of the night.

'I'm glad to hear it . . . There's something important I need to tell you.' He reached into his pocket.

'What is it?' Will asked, immediately concerned.

Damon pulled his hand out and showed Will the object that he had removed from his pocket. It appeared to be a small flute that was hewn from wood, fairly common-looking at first glance.

'You play?' the blacksmith asked, wondering what was so important about the flute.

'Does this look familiar to you?' Damon asked seriously.

Will took the flute in his hand and carefully inspected it from all angles. Upon closer inspection, this flute was far from common - maybe it was even unique! It was a beautiful instrument with complicated, intricate designs carved into the sides; someone had obviously taken great care when making it, but that must have been a long time ago as it appeared to be fairly old and worn out. Furthermore, the edges around the holes were very smooth, indicating that it had been used often.

'No,' the blacksmith said, shaking his head.

Damon took the flute back and placed the end in his mouth. Then he began to play. It was not exactly a practiced tune, but Will soon found himself tapping his fingers to the beat of the music. Something stirred in the back of his mind . . . very faint snatches of a memory . . .

##

_Familiar music was playing in the background. Will turned towards the source of the music and saw a young man sitting on a set of wooden steps, playing a small flute._

_'William,' a woman's voice greeted him, stepping into view._

_Will felt strong arms embrace him, holding him close. A warm cheek pressed against his own small one._

_'Where is your brother?' the woman asked; his mother, he realized. Her sweet breath tickled his face._

_The music stopped._

_'Boy, where are you?' a distinctly masculine voice called out. _

_Will looked up and saw the man, his father, standing beside him, holding the flute in his hands. The child was able to see the instrument more clearly now - it was made of wood, with carvings on the sides, but his young mind was unable to comprehend what they were or what they meant._

_His father noticed him staring at the flute and ruffled his hair affectionately._

_'After we find your brother, we will play together,' he promised. 'Boy!' he called out again._

_'Oh, look, there he is!' Will's mother said, pointing at a young boy who was running out of the bushes._

_Will smiled and ran out to embrace the other boy, his older brother._

##


	9. Chapter IX

##

**Chapter 9**

##

_"One can be a brother only in something. Where there is no tie that binds men, men are not united but merely lined up." ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry_

##

Will gently placed his hand over Damon's.

Knowing what was on the blacksmith's mind, Damon stopped playing and placed the flute in his hands once more.

'I recognize that tune . . . This was my father's,' Will said softly, turning the flute over and over in his hands. 'I remember him playing it when I was still a very young boy, maybe even a toddler.' He traced the carvings with his fingers. 'He didn't often visit my mother and I, rarer still did he play this for me, so I didn't recognize it at first . . .' He realized he was blabbing and immediately stopped, raising his head to look at his companion with new eyes.

'I know,' the fisherman said. 'I recognized you the first moment we met . . . Will.'

Damon's piercing blue gaze evenly met Will's.

'How did you get this?' Will asked, gripping the flute in his hand.

Damon blinked; a single tear rolled down his cheek and disappeared into his collar.

'Isn't it obvious . . . brother?' he asked in return.

Will stared at him disbelievingly.

'How . . . how is this possible? How have we never met before? Why don't I remember you?' Will's head reeled from all the questions he wanted to know the answers to, but was unable to ask all at once.

'Well, we're half-brothers,' Damon clarified, hoping he did not startle Will with this onslaught of information. 'Our father met my mother in America many years ago. After she passed away, we came to England, where he met your mother . . . and they had you.' he added.

Will's eyes seemed to lose focus and he hastily leaned his back against the railing, worried that he was about to keel over.

'But . . . why is it that I have no memory of you?' Will asked. That was not entirely true, but a faint two minute memory was hardly something plausible.

'I'm older,' Damon said simply. 'I was able to travel with Father, to sail the seven seas, to see the world . . .' He faltered slightly. 'But there was a point in our lives when we didn't have much money. Life became hard then - every night was a struggle, every meal was a blessing, every shadow was an enemy . . . Eventually, Father decided it was for the best to put me in the care of a kindly fisherman who lived in a small village just off the coast of Ireland.'

Will stared at his brother, listening intently, trying to gain a better idea of what kind of a man their father was.

'He raised me as if I was his own son.' Damon paused again. 'Unfortunately, he passed away this year. After living on my own for while, I started to become lonely, so I decided to try to find you again.'

'That's why you were in Port Royal,' Will breathed.

'Only for the past few months,' his companion reminded him.

The blacksmith thought about this for a moment.

'Why did you never approach me?'

'I wasn't sure how you'd react . . . or even if you'd accept a new person in your life, in your family . . .' Damon trailed off.

Will straightened, finally able to feel some strength in his legs again.

'We're together now,' he said, stepping forward to embrace his long lost brother.

'That's what's important,' Damon added, squeezing him affectionately in return. 'Come,' he said when they separated.

'Where?' Will asked, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes.

'The pub.' Damon smiled. 'We need to celebrate!'

##

Blood pounded Will's head. Having agreed to Damon's request to join him for one drink after another after another, he had consumed more than his usual amount of rum. Said amount was not, by any means, a lot. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how one surveyed the situation), Will was an inexperienced drinker, so it had a very strong effect on him. He felt almost as drunk as Jack felt when the pirate was sober!

Holding a hand to his mouth to help prevent himself from throwing up, the blacksmith stomped up the stairs to his room. The strap of his bag was digging into his shoulder, making it feel as if he was hauling a canon up the stairs with him; even his clothes seemed to be weighing him down. Pulling together his last reserves of strength, Will managed to make it to his apartment.

'That's odd - the front door is open,' he muttered, the realization barely forcing its way through his befuddled mind. He inched away from the door and blearily began searching around for something to use as a weapon. He noticed a chair sitting in the middle of the corridor; its legs were long gone (perhaps from a brawl between two drunkards on their way to bed), but it would still suit his purpose. Will picked up the chair and slowly made his way back to his flat. Bracing himself for the worst, he entered and . . .

. . . Nothing.

He was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the door closed behind him with a snap. The man whipped around, holding the chair above his head in preparation for an attack.

'Yer not an easy man to find, Mr. Turner,' the stranger said. 'I have wandered all over town looking for ye.'

Will's body was poised for attack, but common sense forced him ask questions first and attack later instead of vice versa.

'Who are you?' he demanded.

'I expected a frontal saber attack from ye,' the other said, ignoring his question. 'Have ye gone soft in the head?'

Will felt like kicking himself - his sword! Of course! He obviously had no need for this chair, but his cloudy mind had completely wiped away all thought of said weapon.

'But I was apparently mistaken . . . Ah, I see that ye've brought me a chair to sit on! It's good to see that ye've not forgotten yer manners since I've seen ye last.'

'Do I know you?' Will asked hesitantly, his words slurring slightly.

'However, if me memory serves me right, I do believe it's customary for the host to give his guest a chair with _legs_.' A long sword glinted slightly in the shadows, reflecting the moonlight that filtered in through the open window.

'Show yourself!' Will commanded, feeling rather panicky now; all dizziness and nausea was forgotten.

'Now, now, it's not polite to speak to your guest in that sort of tone, Mr. Turner, especially one who has worked so hard to find you.' The stranger stepped forwards . . .

A face appeared . . .

'Savvy?'

Jack gleefully took in the look of surprise on Will's face. God, that boy was handsome, even better-looking than his father had been and that was saying something.

'Jack!' Will exclaimed excitedly. He immediately dropped the chair and hurried towards the pirate (as best as he could in his inebriated state) to embrace him. Not a moment later, he seemed to realize what he was doing and pulled away from the other man.

Jack almost frowned with disappointment, but quickly came to and adopted his usual dazed expression.

'Sorry,' Will muttered sheepishly. 'I was just . . . er . . . pleasantly surprised to see you.'

'I'm . . . pleasantly surprised to see ye as well, Will,' Jack said with a smile. 'I had hoped - but with no real way to be certain - that ye were going to be here in Tortuga.'

'Yes, well . . . I was looking for you,' Will said with a shrug.

'And why may that be, William?'

The blacksmith sat down on the edge of the bed and hung his head as if he felt ashamed.

'I have left Elizabeth.'

Jack feigned surprised.

'Why?' he asked, sitting down beside Will.

'What does it matter?' Will said, laughing softly - but Jack could not help but notice that the laugh did not reach his eyes. 'It's all in the past now.'

'Did she realize yer not a eunuch after all?' Jack teased.

'No,' Will said, glaring at the pirate.

'Did she see your lady-sized feet?'

'No.'

'Did she . . . leave you for another man?' he finally asked, wanting to know what Will would reply.

Will's expression darkened.

'Worse . . . She became _impregnated _by another man.' The blacksmith sat down on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands. 'I loved her, Jack! I thought that would be enough . . .'

'And do you think that she . . . loved ye back?' Jack asked hesitantly.

'I thought she did, but now I'm not so certain.'

'What kind of talk is that now?' Jack boomed, sitting down next to the other man and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. 'She was willing to give her life to save ye! When that failed (since she is still alive), she was willing to share the rest of her life with ye - if ye recall, she used to be the commodore's fiancée before she became yer betrothed.'

'Norrington . . . Do you think he's the father?' Will inquired, his head lifting slightly.

Jack stared at the floor.

'I don't know much about him,' he admitted, 'except that he's afraid of pirates . . . However, he strikes me as an honourable man who would never defile his dear friend Elizabeth.'

'Yes, you're right of course . . . I just cannot think right now.' Will ran a hand through his hair in agitation. 'I drank a bit more than my fair share tonight, I'm afraid.'

'Really?' Jack asked interestedly. 'I certainly didn't expect that of ye, William.'

'Please stop calling me that,' Will muttered, glaring blearily at the pirate. 'My father used to call me that . . . and we all know that you're not my father, Jack . . . and thank God you're not - otherwise, this would be very wrong.'

Before Jack had a chance to react, Will closed the distance between them and pressed his lips firmly against the pirate's. The latter's eyes widened in surprise as the blacksmith's mouth began to move against his, coaxing him to open his mouth and submit. He parted his lips, but he did not make it easy for Will to enter. Jack's tongue parried with Will's, battling for dominance; he could taste the familiar flavour of his favourite rum on Will's tongue and it excited him further.

"The rum . . ." he realized.

Jack immediately pulled away, holding Will away at arm's length.

'Mm?' Will's eyes were closed and he had a faint, dazed smile on his face.

'Yer drunk,' Jack said, stating the obvious.

'I know.'

'We shouldn't be doing this,' he said nobly, but the hardness in his breaches protested otherwise.

'We should.'

'We shouldn't.'

'We should!' Will repeated more firmly, his eyes becoming clearer. 'Jack, I've thought about this for a long while, perhaps even before I came to this hell hole to wait for you. I've wanted this - wanted _you_ - for a long time . . . and now I'm finally free to have you, if you'd accept me?' he asked, suddenly uncertain.

Jack groaned softly. God, he wanted this - he wanted this so bad it hurt, but he knew it was not right, especially since he knew the truth about Elizabeth's pregnancy.

'Will,' he said, trying to adopt a patient tone. 'There's something important I have to tell ye first. Then ye can decide if ye still want to do this or not.'

But Will was having none it.

'No,' he said firmly as he stood up. 'If you can look me in the eye right now and tell me you don't want me, I'll leave you be.'

'Will-' Jack started, but the blacksmith interrupted him.

'Tell me!'

Jack sighed and stood up to talk to Will face-to-face.

'Ye know very well that I can't do that,' he said, pointedly glancing down at the bulge in his pants. 'It's obvious that I want ye. Hell, I've wanted to bed ye since the day we met.'

Will smiled softly and lowered himself to the bed.

'Then have me,' he said in a husky voice.

Jack closed his eyes, using all his willpower to stop himself from doing something he might regret. This was wrong, this was so very wrong . . . but at the same time, it just seemed so . . . right.

'I'm yours.'

That was all the goading Jack needed to be pushed over the edge. He gave in to his passion, pouncing on Will with a slight growl. His legs straddled the blacksmith's hips as he leaned over to capture the full, smooth lips once more.

"This is wrong," his conscience kept reminding him. "You need to tell him about Elizabeth."

"Later," he told himself inwardly. It was inevitable that said conversation would have to come up sooner or later, but he preferred later. "Much later," he decided as Will entwined his hands in the pirate's dreadlocks and pulled him ever closer, the kiss becoming almost bruising.

Will moaned eagerly and licked Jack's lips, silently requesting entrance. This time, the pirate's mouth opened submissively and Will slid his tongue inside, exploring the hot cavern within. He tasted rum and a distinct spice that was unique to the gorgeous man before him. He breathed deeply, inhaling the pirate's strong, masculine scent. His senses felt heightened by the heat of his passion; the blacksmith did not want to miss a moment of this experience.

Jack allowed the younger man to taste and explore him before his tongue began to battle back, forcing the blacksmith to retreat. Jack followed him, relishing the now familiar taste of William Turner Jr. . . . his best friend's son . . . his friend's betrothed . . .

The pirate faltered, something very uncharacteristic of him - or of any pirate, for that matter. If pirates started to obey their consciences, the occupation would cease to exist!

Even through the haze of his passion, the blacksmith noticed that something was wrong, but he refused to let that stop him. He removed his hand from Jack's hair and slipped it into the other man's breaches to cup the hardness within. When the pirate did not react, Will flexed his hand, massaging the length of Jack's erection. Finally, he heard the pirate groan in response; the latter's hips thrust into his hand, wanting more, craving more, needing more . . .

'God, yer going to be the death of me, boy,' Jack said hoarsely, his eyes fluttering shut.

'Not yet, I hope,' Will teased. He slid his hand out of Jack's pants, causing the latter to moan softly in complaint. 'Shh,' Will hushed. 'I have something better for you.' He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt - slowly, oh, so slowly - watching the pirate's every reaction.

'It's not nice to tease a pirate,' Jack warned him with narrowed eyes.

Will pulled the shirt off over his head and tossed it into the corner. Then he began to undo the ties on the pirate's shirt in the same slow, teasing manner.

Growing impatient, Jack slipped a hand into his boot and pulled out a dagger.

The blacksmith's eyes widened in fear, but then returned to their former state of passion when he felt the pirate carefully slip the blade into the front of his breaches. He hardly had a chance to register the sensation of cold steel against his hardness before Jack tore his pants open with a quick flick of his wrist. Will opened his mouth to complain, but the pirate's lips were suddenly upon his once more, drowning out his words.

Jack threw his knife onto the floor with a skilled toss; it landed blade first in the old wooden floor. His fingers made quick work of his shirt and it, too, was flung onto the floor. Finally, only his breaches remained and he untied them with swift, efficient movements.

'You've done this before,' Will said when he had a chance to breathe at last - not that he was complaining.

Jack slid his face into the crook of the blacksmith's neck.

'Of course,' Jack whispered against the sensitive skin, causing the other man to shudder pleasurably in response. 'That's why it feels so good, love.' As he was doing this, his hand stretched out to grab the end of the blacksmith's bedspread. He pulled back just enough to allow his other hand to reach the other end of the sheet; then he ripped off a strip of fabric from the edge.

'Oy!' Will protested. 'That's my only bed sheet.'

'Don't worry, love,' Jack said soothingly. 'Ye can share my bed.'

'You mean I can come with you? On the Black Pearl?' Will asked, hardly daring to believe it. He had not even expected to breach this subject with the pirate until the next day, let alone be accepted without question.

'Of course,' Jack replied. 'Yer Bootstrap Bill's only son, after all.' When he noticed Will's expression of joy faltering slightly, he quickly added, 'Besides, I'm not yet ready to give up something I've wanted for so long.' He planted a soft kiss on the blacksmith's lips.

Will moaned and wrapped his legs around Jack's waist, pressing their sweaty bodies together. He gasped slightly when he felt the pirate's hot length nudging his entrance.

'Shh, patience,' Jack whispered. 'I'm not done having fun with you yet.'

'I'm done with the games, pirate,' Will said impatiently, arching against his lover. 'Take me.'

'Ye'll like this one - I promise.' Jack reached up and tightly tied Will's wrists to the headboard with the strip of fabric. His hands gently stroked the heaving torso, mapping out the unfamiliar territory.

Will pulled helplessly against his bonds, willing Jack to touch him more, tease him more, kiss him more . . . Wanting to feel the very core of the pirate's passion.

Jack leaned down and latched his mouth onto one of the blacksmith's nipples. He teased the dark nub with his tongue, making it harden with desire. Similarly, his hand reached between Will's legs to stroke his erection and tease the sensitive head; his lover moaned almost uncontrollably beneath him.

Will watched with wide eyes as Jack shifted towards the edge of the bed so that he was lying between the blacksmith's legs. His mouth soon replaced his hand on his lover's desire, his tongue licking and massaging the sensitive flesh. Will's body acted instinctively and he thrust into the pirate's mouth, taking pleasure in the tight, hot cavern. All his nerves seemed to be centered at the part of him that was inside his lover, but he could not help but hope that soon it would be the other way around.

As if he had read his mind, Jack resumed his position on top of Will and pressed their lips together in a bruising, passionate kiss.

Will moaned into the pirate's mouth. Before he realized what was happening, he suddenly felt Jack thrust inside him, sheathing himself to the hilt. The blacksmith breathed heavily, trying to accustom himself to this unfamiliar intrusion.

'I'm sorry,' Jack apologized, his lips lightly brushing his lover's jaw. 'I didn't mean to do it so quickly.'

Will chuckled softly.

'What happened to your game, Jack?' he asked, his eyes opening to look at his lover.

'I couldn't help it,' Jack admitted. 'Ye looked too . . .' He trailed off, as if trying to find the right word. 'Irresistible!'

Will beamed.

'I didn't hurt ye, did I?' Jack asked anxiously.

'No,' Will said honestly. 'I just didn't know it could feel so good.'

'This is just the beginning,' the pirate said, flashing his golden teeth. 'There's so much more I can show ye.' As if to prove his point, he began to move within the blacksmith.

Will's hands clenched into fists in an attempt to contain himself. This was absolutely mind-blowing, incredible, amazing!

'No, _Jack _is amazing,' he corrected himself.

Will could hardly believe he had been missing this in his life, but only with this pirate did it seem so right. He had wanted this - wanted _him _- for so long that he did not even know when it started, perhaps even before he and Elizabeth were engaged to be wed. All he knew was that now he finally had his heart's desire.

Jack leaned forwards to kiss the blacksmith deeply, their tongues parrying and caressing. He slipped an arm behind his lover's back to re-angle his thrusts; each drive caused feelings of insurmountable pleasure in their loins, bringing them closer and closer to the edge. Finally, the waves of pleasure overwhelmed the two men and they came together, sharing a deep moment with the one they loved, the only one . . .

##


	10. Chapter X

##

**Chapter 10**

##

_"It's not having what you want. It's wanting what you've got." ~ Sheryl Crow_

##

The next morning - afternoon, actually - Will blearily opened his eyes and examined his surroundings. His flat was a mess, to say the least. Clothes had been thrown everywhere, furniture had been knocked over, and the bed sheets had been ripped. But he could not have been happier. Smiling tiredly, the blacksmith turned over to face the pirate lying beside him.

Jack was still asleep, snoring softly. He looked as innocent and vulnerable as he did on the day he was born into this world, yet all the more beautiful for it.

Will reached up to gently stroke the chiseled cheek of his lover with the back of his fingers, relishing the rough sensation of the latter's morning stubble.

'All mine,' he whispered to himself, leaning in to kiss the pirate chastely on the lips.

Jack moaned softly against his lips and his eyes fluttered open.

'Sorry,' Will muttered sheepishly. 'I didn't mean to wake you.'

'I don't mind, love,' Jack replied in a hoarse voice, rubbing his eyes. 'That's my favourite way of waking up.'

The blacksmith chuckled.

'Then I'll be sure to wake you up like that every day,' he said, smoothing a stray dreadlock back from the pirate's face.

Jack took Will's hand in his and kissed the rough palm.

'What say we grab a bite, eh?' he asked. 'I'm absolutely starving.' As if to confirm his statement, his stomach let out a loud growl.

'Need to regain your strength after last night?' Will teased.

'No, need to regain my strength before tonight,' Jack replied with a wink, making Will blush. 'Not to mention that my rum levels are getting dangerously low.'

'Ah, so this is how the notorious Captain Sparrow acts when he's sober!' Will exclaimed with mock surprise.

'Puh-lease, William,' the pirate said seriously. 'I am never sober.'

Will rolled his eyes.

'So what are you craving? Bread? Cheese?'

'What about sausage?' Jack said with a suggestive grin.

##

Elizabeth waited patiently as the town's midwife, Elsa, completed her weekly examination.

'Everything seems to be in order, dearie,' Elsa said in her crisp Irish accent. 'Your child will be a healthy one, no doubt about that!'

'I'm happy to hear it,' Elizabeth replied. 'And thank you again for taking the trouble to come all the way down here.'

Elizabeth was now so far along in her pregnancy that her father had expressly forbidden her to leave the manor. Despite the governor's initial grudging that she had disobeyed his orders to abort the baby, he had soon realized he would have his first grandchild to hold in his arms. His worries for her, which were already somewhat intense since Elizabeth's own mother had died in childbirth, doubled as they became shared worries for the child within.

'Pish posh,' the midwife tutted. 'It was no problem at all - anything for the governor's daughter. Besides,' she added as she packed her supplies in her bag, 'I'm always eager to bring a little one into the world. The father must be very excited as well.'

Elizabeth bit her lip nervously. Elsa had been throwing hints for months now, hoping Elizabeth would confide in her and tell her who the father was, but Elizabeth had always avoided a response. The shame and embarrassment for her - the governor's daughter! - to be pregnant before she married was enough to cause terrible rumors circling the town without having to add the traumatizing rape experience to the story.

No, it was best if the truth was hidden from the townspeople. The only people who knew the truth were herself, Damon (the name still brought bile to her throat), her father, Jack, and Will.

"If Jack ever managed to find him," she thought sadly.

Her only consolation in this horrible mess was that Damon did not seem to have gone around the lower town blabbing his mouth off before he left. If he had, surely she would have seen a sign or heard some whisper by now.

'You'll be due soon,' Elsa reminded Elizabeth, immediately snapping her out of her thoughts, 'so mind you don't do anything to worry your father more than he already is. No disrespect intended, but you could balance books on those stiff shoulders of his!'

Elizabeth laughed softly.

'Oh, definitely,' she agreed distractedly. 'He's always been like that, ever since I can remember.'

Elsa smiled and closed her bag with a snap.

'I'll be off then, unless there's anything else you need of me, miss?'

'No,' Elizabeth shook her head. 'That will be all. Thank you, Elsa.'

The midwife bobbed her head in respect and slipped out of Elizabeth's bedroom.

Not a moment later, Elizabeth heard the expected knock on the door, which was still slightly ajar from Elsa's departure. She rolled her eyes - her father was so predictable. He always came to see her after her visits with the midwife.

'Elizabeth?' her father called softly.

'You may come in, father,' she said, wearily rubbing her eyes.

'It's James, actually.'

She started, surprised he had come to call. He had been away on a sailing voyage for months, looking for Damon. Did this mean her rapist had finally been caught?

'Come in,' she said again.

Norrington entered her bedroom hesitantly as if he was not entirely sure if he should be in there.

'You're looking well, James,' she said.

Indeed he did. The days at sea had tanned his skin to an attractive shade and his body seemed harder and more built than the last time she had seen him, perhaps from combat training or . . . skirmishes with other men (to put it lightly).

'You as well, Elizabeth,' he commended. 'You have an undeniable glow about you.'

She smiled.

'Please take a seat,' Elizabeth said, indicating the chair beside her bed which her father frequented often.

Norrington sat down, but he did not lean back against the plush velvet. Rather, he leaned forwards so that he was closer to Elizabeth.

'I'm happy to see you, no doubt about that,' Elizabeth said, not standing on ceremony. 'However, I am afraid this will have to be a short visit as I'm terribly tired.'

'Of course, I understand,' Norrington said. He looked at her hopeful face, knowing what she wanted him to say, but unable to form the words. 'We . . . did not find Damon,' he finally admitted.

Her expression dropped, but if truth be told, she had not expected Damon to be found by the commodore's men. After all, the world outside of Port Royal was an overwhelming area to search, where Damon would have many hiding placing and allies.

'But I assure you, if he were ever to return to Port Royal, he will be punished for his actions.'

Norrington saw a faint smile on her face; at the same time, however, tears were forming in her eyes.

'He will never return,' Elizabeth said. 'I know that for a fact - not while we are looking for him.'

The commodore pulled a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and held it out to her.

'Thank you,' she said, taking the handkerchief and dabbing the tears from the corners of her eyes. 'I'm sorry - I don't mean to act like this.'

'It's fine, really,' Norrington said gently. 'You've been through a terrible ordeal, but you know what they say . . . "Time heals all wounds",' he added with a smile.

She smiled in return.

'I . . . have to admit,' he said hesitantly, 'bearing this bad news is not the only reason for my visit. I have something I wish to ask you.'

Elizabeth looked at him curiously.

'I do not know how to put this into words exactly, but it has long come to my attention that your child will soon need a father.' He avoided her gaze as if afraid what he might see there. 'As you know, I'm a strong figure in Port Royal and a model citizen, not to mention I have positive relations with your father.' He gently placed his hand on hers. 'Elizabeth,' he said, his gaze meeting hers at last, 'will you do me the honour of being my wife?'

Elizabeth did not know what to say. Her mind was being pulled in a dozen different directions at once.

What if Jack found Will and the blacksmith returned to Port Royal to ask for her forgiveness, only to see that she had already married another man?

What if the townspeople thought that Norrington was the one who impregnated before they were married? The following rumors were sure to tarnish his reputation.

Could she marry Norrington if she did not love him? Moreover, could they be happy together?

If she did not marry Norrington, would she be able to create a life to support both her and her baby? How would her child grow up without a fatherly figure?

'I . . . I'm not sure,' she said slowly.

'Elizabeth,' Norrington said, 'while I was away, I thought about a lot of different scenarios in my mind and I think this is the best course of action - for _both _of us. I cannot be the man you want me to be-'

"He's talking about Will," she realized.

'-but I care for you deeply and I sincerely believe that we can have a happy life together, albeit perhaps a different happiness from the one you expected.'

'Yes,' she said softly.

'Not only that, I intend to raise the child as my own - to grow up strong and healthy with good morals and a sound understanding of the law.'

'Yes,' she said again, slightly louder this time. 'I will marry you, James.'

##

The minutes turned into hours, the hours turned into days . . . yet it seemed like time had simply flown by when Jack announced that the Black Pearl would be leaving Tortuga.

'We will leave at noon tomorrow,' he told his crew in the tavern one night. 'So tonight, drink to yer hearts' content and have a lovely wench or two to mind yer manners,' he added with a wink. 'We will make preparations in the morning.'

'Aye, Captain,' they replied, some of them slurring slightly even though the night was still young.

'Until then, cheers!' Jack held up a bottle of rum to toast his crew.

And that was the last Will saw of them that night.

'Where are we off to, Jack?' he asked, nursing a glass a whiskey in his hand.

Jack took a deep draught from his bottle before answering.

'Paris,' he said, 'or Rome.'

'That's not like you,' Will said suspiciously. 'You usually try to avoid big cities, don't you?'

'And I usually can't resist staying in Tortuga for weeks at a time,' he added, winking at a bonny lass nearby, 'but I'm looking for someone . . . a man . . . but I've no idea where to start,' he admitted.

'So . . . you're guessing?'

'I'm making an educated guess, dear William,' the pirate replied. 'A skilled deduction based on my past experiences with thieves and scallywags and the likes of which ye've never known.'

'Why?'

Jack sighed and closed his eyes, willing his conscience away.

Days had already passed, but he still had not found the words to tell Will what had happened to Elizabeth. He had been too distracted - too overwhelmed - by his newfound happiness. Will Turner was kind, caring, beautiful . . . and a good man. He was the type of lover Captain Jack Sparrow had never expected himself to be lucky enough to find, let alone keep.

Aye, he loved the boy, there was no doubt about that. Perhaps he had loved him even before they became allies, when they first met in the blacksmith shop.

He remembered that day as clearly as if it was yesterday or as clearly as he would be able to remember it in his usual drunken haze . . .

##

_He ran away from the commodore's soldiers and snuck into the blacksmith shop with the hopes of freeing himself from his iron manacles. _

_"No doubt they were even made here," Jack thought, tempted to laugh at the irony._

_He tried to use the hammer to break the chains, but it soon became apparent to him that his bonds did not give him enough purchase to do so. Then he noticed the donkey standing innocently in the corner; it was attached to a large, wooden contraption, forming an idea in his mind. Jack heated an iron prod on the dying fire and used it to force the ass to move. As the metal gears shifted, he hastily threw his chains over the gears. With a loud snap, they came off at last._

_Not wanting to waste any time, Jack discarded the manacles and began to make his way to the door. He froze in place when he saw that the door was already opening. Fearing it to be soldiers, he ran to the corner to hide behind a stack of crates._

_When the stranger entered, he peeked his head out around the edge of the boxes for a look._

_'It can't be . . .' he breathed, disbelieving._

_The man before him had to be the splitting image of his old friend, Bootstrap Bill. However, he knew for a fact that Bill Turner had gone to meet Davy Jones long ago, murdered by those he once considered friends._

_Jack watched as the man hurried over to the donkey and calmed it with a few gentle words. He had a gentle soul, that much was apparent; he appeared to be a kind, yet strong, man._

_"And a beautiful one," Jack could not help but notice. _

_The stranger's muscles looked slim, yet hard, beneath his clothes. His steps were firm and sure, as if he was a practiced swordsman or bowman. And his eyes . . . there was no way in the world Jack would forget eyes like those - so deep and soulful, so like Bill's._

_'His son,' Jack suspected. 'This is Bill's son, William Turner.' _

_He had heard Bill speak about the boy, telling stories about William as a young lad . . . but he was no young lad anymore. William was all grown up now, grown into a fine young man by the looks of it._

_The pirate's breath caught in his throat when he saw William pick up the hammer from the anvil - he had forgotten to return it to its place! Then his eyes fell on something even more incriminating . . . his hat. Knowing there was no point in hiding further, not to mention he had no intention of leaving without his notorious hat, he slipped his sword out of its scabbard. With careful steps, he made his way towards the other man. As he drew closer, he could smell William's distinct masculine scent, a mixture of metal, fire, and something that was uniquely him. Jack could feel blood pooling to his loins, but he firmly ignored it, trying to focus on the task at hand._

_As William leaned over to pick up his hat, Jack tapped his hand with the flat of his sword, warning the boy away._

_'You're the one they're looking for,' the blacksmith said. 'The pirate.'_

_'You seem somewhat familiar,' Jack said, pretending not to know other man's true identity. 'Have I threatened you before?'_

_'I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates,' William replied with a glare._

_Jack stared back into those deep, brown eyes._

_There was no doubt about it - this young man would be his undoing._

_##_


	11. Chapter XI

_##_

**Chapter 11**

##

"_To see the right and not to do it is cowardice." ~ Confucius _

##

'Jack?' Will asked, bringing him back to the present.

'Sorry, lost meself for a moment there,' Jack said with a grin.

'Not a surprise,' Will teased.

Jack's expression suddenly became serious, more serious than Will had ever seen him.

'The man I'm looking for,' the pirate began, 'I think ye should be looking for him, too.'

'Why?' Will asked again, hiking the strap of his bag higher up on his shoulder. 'Do I know him?'

'No,' Jack admitted, 'and ye don't want to, not unless ye plan on killing him shortly afterwards.'

'Unless he has wronged me in some way, I have no intention of killing an unknown man,' Will said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jack clapped a hand on the blacksmith's shoulder.

'Walk with me,' he said. 'There is something important we need to talk about.'

Will looked at him warily, but silently agreed. He stood up and followed Jack out of the tavern.

Jack walked down the street, further and further away from the crowded bars, ignoring the prostitutes and drunkards he passed along the way.

'Hello, dearie,' a curvy brunette beckoned to him. 'Want a little bang for your buck?'

'No, come with me,' a slim redhead was saying. 'Ginger will take care of you.'

And there were many others besides, gesturing to him and Will alike.

The pirate ignored them all, all the while wondering if it was a good thing or bad thing that he had left his rum back at the tavern. He needed a clear head, but at the same time, the soothing effects of alcohol would make this dreaded conversation with Will pass by more quickly.

'Come along, my lovely,' a blonde harlot said, touching the pirate's sleeve. 'I'll make it worth your while.'

After seeing this exchange, the blacksmith finally lost his patience with the prostitutes (not all of them women, if truth be told). He lightly removed the blonde's hand from his lover with a sarcastically polite nod and leaned in to plant a firm, passionate kiss on the pirate's lips.

Jack easily submitted to this fervent display of affection, looking for any reason to delay their conversation just a little bit longer. His purpose was soon completely driven from his head, however, when Will slipped his hand to the small of the pirate's back and pulled him closer. Jack smiled against his lover's lips when he felt the blacksmith's desire pressing against his own. Deciding to take on the more dominant role, he placed his hands on Will's hips and guided his back to the nearest wall. Then he lifted Will's leg and grinded their hips together, opening up the other man, reminding him of their most intimate moments together, reminding him of the love they shared . . .

The friction ignited the fire of passion within Will's very core, becoming so intense that he was unable to take it anymore. He broke his lips away from their kiss, gasping heavily. His lips were swollen and his knees felt weak; he was sure to have collapsed onto the ground by now if Jack had not positioned him against the wall.

'Yer far too good at this for yer own good, love,' Jack said, leaning heavily against Will.

Will smiled, pleased to see he seemed to have had the same effect on the pirate.

'I was about to say the same of you, Captain Sparrow,' he whispered into the other man's ear, his hot breath teasing Jack's sensitive lobe.

Jack shivered in response.

Suddenly remembering why he had initiated the kiss in the first place, Will glanced over Jack's shoulder to look at the other street dwellers. He was not surprised to see that the harlots had left to take their business elsewhere; there were still a few drunkards nearby, but they were minding their own business.

'Shall we go?' Will asked.

Jack groaned with dread and the pleasurable moment that had occurred not seconds before was immediately forgotten.

'Do we have to?' he asked, sounding very much like a small child.

'You said it was important, Jack,' Will reminded him like the responsible adult he was. 'Where are we going anyway?'

Jack straightened so that he was no longer leaning against the blacksmith.

'Somewhere private to talk,' he explained, spinning on his heel to lead the way once more.

Will picked up his bag (which had fallen during their brief, but intense, bout of pleasure) and obediently followed the other man down the street.

Not long after, the pirate ducked into a side alley, hoping that there was no one inside. Fortunately (or unfortunately, as the case may be), no one was. He hesitantly turned around to look at Will, wondering if those eyes would look at him the same way - with such love and affection - once the blacksmith heard what he had to say.

'It's about Elizabeth . . .' he began hesitantly.

Will's body immediately stiffened at the mention of her name.

'What about her?' he asked disinterestedly.

'It's about her . . . pregnancy,' Jack began again.

'There is nothing to discuss,' Will said firmly, turning away.

Jack sighed. He had known this would be difficult, but he had not expected Will to react like this.

'She-'

'Will!' someone called out suddenly, drawing their conversation to a halt. 'Where've you been, mate? Haven't seen you for days!'

Jack cursed inwardly at the interruption. When he saw the man who had interrupted them, the curses erupted fully out of his mouth.

'Ye shit-faced son of a bitch! What the bloody hell are ye doing here?' the pirate said darkly under his breath.

Damon smiled.

'I'm sorry,' he said to Will. 'I didn't realize you have company.'

Growling slightly in irritation, Jack pulled out his pistol and aimed it at the newcomer's head.

'Whoa, whoa, what the hell do you think you're doing?' Will demanded, immediately stepping in front of the barrel.

'This man deserves to die.'

'What have I ever done to you?' the fisherman asked innocently.

'Don't give me that shit.' Jack spat disgustedly. 'Ye know very well what ye've done.'

'Enough!' Will almost shouted. 'Will someone tell me what's going on here?'

'I'll tell ye after I shoot him,' Jack promised. 'Now _move_!'

'Are you ordering me as a captain?' Will asked with narrowed eyes as if daring his lover to say yes.

'I'm ordering ye as a friend . . . and as a friend of Elizabeth,' he added. 'Ye'll thank me for this!'

"Even though ye might leave me for her after," the pirate thought sadly.

Will whipped his sword out of its scabbard with a flourish and pointed the end at the pirate.

'You will do no such thing!' the blacksmith said. He looked over his shoulder at the other man. 'Jack . . . this man, Damon, is my _brother_.'

Jack's jaw literally dropped open.

'Yer what?'

'His brother,' Damon replied, holding out his hand. 'Damon Turner.'

Jack's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

'Yer lying.'

'He's not,' Will said.

'He's lying to ye, Will!'

'He's not!' Will yelled. He shoved his hand into his bag and pulled out the flute. '_This _belonged to my father!' He thrust the instrument in front of Jack's face. 'I remember this. He used to play this very flute when I was young - always the same tune, over and over again. Damon plays the same tune! Besides which, I have actual memories of him, Jack. He cannot implant a memory in my mind!'

Jack's nostrils flared with anger.

'Bootstrap Bill did not have another son,' he said, but he was not entirely convinced. Bill always liked to tell Jack stories about his son, but he had never mentioned him by name. Now that Jack thought about it, he realized Bill could easily have been talking about two little boys and the captain had incorrectly assumed there had only been one.

'I did not know my father very well,' Will admitted, 'but I don't doubt there were some aspects of his life that you were unaware of!'

'Move, Will,' Jack said again, baring his teeth this time. 'This is yer last warning.'

'Or what?' Will challenged. 'You'll shoot me?'

'Will!' Jack screamed, losing his temper. 'This _man _is the reason Elizabeth is pregnant!'

Will froze.

'What do you mean?'

'He took advantage of her, Will! He _violated _her! He _raped _her!'

'You're lying,' the blacksmith said shiftily.

'What? Ye believe _him _and not _me_!' Inside his chest, he could feel his heart cracking.

'What else would you have me do?' Will demanded. 'Condemn my own brother?'

'Did he ever _say _he didn't do it?' Jack asked, laughing hysterically (although there was nothing at all funny about this situation); he had not expected things to turn out this way. 'Ask him - ask him now!'

Will turned to stare at the man behind him.

The fisherman seemed unfazed.

'I got rid of an unnecessary obstacle,' Damon said smoothly.

Will turned this over in his mind.

'Are you telling me that what Jack says is true?'

Damon lowered his chin, but he did not break gazes with Will.

'Only after she was out of the way could we truly be brothers again.'

Will whipped his sword around, pointing the sharp blade at Damon's exposed throat.

'Do you have any idea what you've done? You took away my family! You took away my reason to live!'

Damon drew his own sword out in a flash, forcing Will's blade away with a _clang!_

_'I _am your family now,' he said. 'Haven't you realized? You're happier now than you've ever been with her.'

'That would be my doing,' Jack said quietly, pointing at himself, but the other two men ignored him.

'Don't you see, Will?' Damon continued, uninterrupted. 'We belong together! We're blood - we're brothers!'

'Just because we share the same father does not make you my brother!' Will snarled. 'You are no brother of mine!'

Damon smiled.

Had it been anyone but Will, the sudden flash of metal that followed surely would have killed him. However, the blacksmith parried the blow and sliced the air with his blade, aiming for Damon's neck.

The fisherman ducked and kicked at the blacksmith's calf - _hard_ – forcing Will to crumble to his knees.

Ignoring the searing pain in his legs, Will hastily jumped to his feet. He and Damon circled each other, trying to figure out what the other man's next move would be.

But no one could have expected Jack Sparrow. The pirate cocked his pistol, aimed it at Damon, and fired!

The fisherman screamed in pain and fell to the ground, grabbing his injured ankle.

'He's all yers,' Jack said, blowing the slightly smoking end of his pistol.

Will warily approached his fallen brother, his sword held ready in his hand.

'You don't deserve to live,' the blacksmith said, tears coursing down his face. He was torn between avenging Elizabeth and weeping for the brother he never knew, but now knew he had never wanted. 'You don't know all the suffering I have experienced because of you.'

Damon spat in Will's face.

'You don't know all the shit I've gone through just to be brothers again,' he countered crassly.

'And I never will.' The blacksmith raised his arms.

Damon laughed maniacally.

'Can you do this, Will? Can you kill your own brother? Is this who you are?'

The sword was poised above his head, but Will hesitated at this final moment.

'If I let you live, you must give me your word that you will return to America, that our paths will never cross again, and that you will leave Elizabeth alone!'

The fisherman's eyes darkened.

'I will never-'

Damon's last words ended in nothing but a gurgle of blood.

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	12. Epilogue

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**Epilogue**

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_"Home is where the heart is." ~ Gaius Plinius Secundas_

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Will sighed in relief when he was finally standing before the governor's manor. The building had not changed in the least. It still had the same white walls, the same arched windows, the same dull brown roof . . . even the same servants from the day he had left. Life here did not seem to have changed at all.

After the Damon incident in Tortuga had been taken care of, he returned to Port Royal by way of the Black Pearl to have a long overdue discussion with Elizabeth. The trip was no easy feat, but he knew he owed it to her to put her mind at rest. He had been the wronged one here and he knew it; the very least he could do was apologize for his appalling actions and hope they could put this terrible mess behind them . . . but he had no intention of returning to her or to Port Royal.

If truth be told, Will was not sure if he even loved her anymore. If he did, however, his love for her seemed to have cooled to that of a dear friend or of a brother and sister, for he no longer saw her as a potential wife and life partner. Will had another love of his life now, one so unique he could not be replaced with anyone else in the whole wide world, one who had been by his side from the very start, even if he himself did not recognize it back then.

Jack Sparrow, notorious captain of the Black Pearl . . . A skilled pirate, a good man . . . and an amazing bed partner.

Will flushed at the memory of the previous night's escapades which involved the captain's luxurious four poster bed, a leather whip, and a mouth gag. He immediately shook his head to rid himself of these thoughts, for now was not the time to dwell them. The movement caused his shaggy brown hair fell across his face, obscuring his vision slightly, so the blacksmith pulled a string of leather from his pocket and tied his hair back with it. As he did so, he noticed a familiar face in the window.

'Elizabeth,' he gasped, staring straight into her wide brown eyes.

She immediately left the window. Not a moment later, he saw her sprinting out the front door towards him with her arms opened wide.

Will ran across the lawn to meet her and gathered her up in his arms, embracing her tightly. He had missed her so, there was no denying it. They had been childhood friends, childhood sweethearts . . . They had a history together that was not easily forgotten, nor did he ever want it to be.

'I never thought I'd see you again,' she said brokenly into his shoulder, crying softly. 'I'm sorry, Will. I'm sorry for everything that happened. I'm so sorry.'

'No,' he said firmly, pulling back slightly to look her in the eye.

Elizabeth looked older than she did when he saw her last, but she also seemed to be glowing. Not in the literal sense, of course, but her actions and bearing suggested that she was happy with the current circumstances life had handed her. There were no words to describe how relieved Will was to realize that.

'No,' he said again. '_I'm _the one who should be sorry.' Will gently wiped the tears from her cheek with his fingers. 'I should have listened to you . . . I'm _so_ terribly sorry for that - there are simply no words.' He chastely kissed her forehead. 'If things had gone differently that day, things may be different now.'

She nodded in agreement, wiping new tears from her eyes.

'How did you know to find me here?' she asked.

The blacksmith's brows furrowed in confusion.

'What do you mean? This is still your father's house, isn't it?' He looked around at the grounds as if to confirm the location.

'Yes, I was just visiting him,' she said, 'but . . . I guess that means . . . you haven't heard . . .?' Elizabeth released her hold on him and showed him the golden ring on her finger.

'You're . . . married . . . now,' he said in disbelief.

'Yes,' she said. 'To James Norrington.'

His eyes widened.

'It was somewhat sudden,' she admitted, 'but I think it was for the best. He's a good man . . . He's good to me and he positively adores little Mary.'

'Your daughter?'

'Yes,' she said again, glowing slightly.

Will took both her hands and sandwiched them between his.

'He can give you a life we've only dreamed of,' he said sincerely and tears began to form in his eyes as well.

'Perhaps,' she said as if hesitant to agree with the blacksmith in case she offended him. 'And I'm hoping that Mary will be able to grow up in a place that is warm and familiar, instead of always moving about.'

Will nodded with understanding, not slighted in the least at what she was implying.

'I'm happy for you - both of you.'

'You, too . . . I'm happy for you, I mean . . .' she said, jumbling her words together. 'I mean, I've no idea what you've been up to during all this time, but you seem . . . different that before - happier, but more wild.'

'Wild?' he chuckled.

'Like you are ready for an adventure,' she explained, reaching up to gently stroke his beard. 'And judging from your appearance-' She indicated his sailor garb and sun-tanned skin. '-you seem to have found it on the sea.'

'I have,' he confirmed. 'It looks like things worked out for both of us.' He kissed the back of her hand. 'I'm afraid I can't stay long. Jack and the crew are waiting for me nearby,' he added in a pointed whisper.

'So you're not staying?'

'No, I'll be leaving Port Royal within the hour.'

'But you've only just arrived!'

'I know,' he said, sounding slightly sad, 'but I had no intention of staying for long.'

'Because of Jack,' she said with understanding, 'and the others.'

He nodded.

'I just needed to see that you're all right.'

'I'm better than all right,' she said with a smile. 'Thank you for worrying about me.'

'Are you happy here?'

'I am,' Elizabeth said softly. 'Mary will have a good life here and that is what is most important to me.'

'You will be a good mother to her . . . and Norrington will be a good father. She will grow up to be strong and proud. Maybe then we will meet again.' He kissed the back of her hand again.

'Surely it won't be so long before you visit again?'

'Who knows what the future holds?' he asked in return, staring off into the distance. 'For now, I'll go wherever the sea takes me.' He kissed her farewell on the cheek. 'Goodbye, Elizabeth. Until our paths cross again . . .'

'Goodbye . . . Will . . .' she said softly, silent tears flowing down her cheeks.

He held her hand for a moment longer before he stepped off the governor's property and back into the world.

It was by no means his last visit with Elizabeth, but that is another story . . .

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End file.
